A Wizard's Magic
by weixuan18
Summary: An unexpected protection from his mother changed the course of his life. Watch as Harry grows up with the Hogwarts Professors, charming his way through the magical world, creating his own path of destiny with his beloved ones at his side.
1. Beginning of His Story

_**A/N: Yeah, I know this is ridiculous. I've been away for a few months, tidying up my uni life and now I suddenly appear with a new fic. A fic that isn't like anything I've promised or ever attempted too! I mean, come on, since when did I write Harry Potter fics?! **_

_**Well, to be honest, I've found that it's been getting harder to write Naruto for a while, and that has been putting me off it. I just can't seem to get the drive to write anymore, and part of it is because of the manga, the other is because that whenever I open a Word document nowadays, it's to write a damn report. And I'll be frank, I'm not too fond of those. **_

_**Then one day, I've suddenly remembered one of the better writers (in my opinion of course) for Harry potter fanfiction, Jeconais. I went back to his site and read through his fics, read through every single one, because simply put, I really like how he structures and weaves his way around stories, and the fact that he writes non-canon pairings as well only makes it better. **_

_**I've read through JBern's "The Lie I've lived", fell in love with it once more, and then went back to Jeconais' fics, and the I was like… crap, I'm out of stuff to read. And as usual, just like when I started writing Naruto, this idea caught me. Why not just write one for myself? It'd definitely be fun, and after reading so much Harry Potter, I'm sure I can construct a proper plot and all that. And here we are. **_

_**Note, there a few things you guys should probably know about me. I don't like Harry Ginny that much, so you most definitely will not seeing me go in that direction. This will probably end up as a Harry/Multi, seeing how I always write myself harems in the end =.= **_

_**Anyway, I hope you guys have a good read, because well, this is just me having fun with the Harry Potter world, completely screwing with all its concepts, and trying to make everything much more interesting. Harry will not be like canon in terms of confidence, power, etc. The whole point is to have Harry play as he wishes, and it starts off at his birth. Now please enjoy, my first ever Harry Potter fic. **_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

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A Wizard's Magic

Chapter 1: Beginning of His Story

It was a special night, one where almost every single wizard in Britain was conducting some form of celebration, even as news spread like wildfire through the cities, through the towns, the streets, the pubs, one sentence was all that was needed before emotions so sharp and joyous was released out of them in one huge roar, "The Dark Lord has fallen!"

After so many years of fear, anguish and anxiety, the evil had finally been vanquished, and by a mere baby no less! No one could believe their ears when they heard it: Harry James Potter had somehow defeated the Dark Lord that everyone thought invincible. They cheered and cheered till their throats were hoarse, they cried and wept till their eyes were dry, they drank and danced till their bodies were exhausted, welcoming the peace that would definitely reign from now on. Life would finally be peaceful and no one would ever have to worry about going home, only to find a demolished building and deceased kin. It was truly the end of a dark era.

Yet amongst all the festivities, said child was currently lying gently the arms of a serene old man, snoring away quietly, a scar shaped like a lightning bolt imprinted on his forehead, proof of the defeat of the Dark Lord. The power of love, a mother's love to be precise, had saved the baby from an untimely death, and coincidentally, caused the downfall of a most surprised Voldemort. A man fluent in the dark arts, known for his cruelty and merciless ways, fell before a power so pure and simple. The irony would have been hilarious had it not cost the lives of Lily and James Potter.

"Albus, are sure about this?" A soft voice questioned as she rose from the form of a silver tabby cat.

"Alas, my dear Minerva, it would seem I have no choice."

"I've seen these _muggles_ that you intend to leave the child with. I have never seen such vile creatures in the way they go about things."

The elderly man with hair white as snow, and a beard long enough to reach his waist, chuckled in mirth, "Now, now, it's not like you to speak ill of people."

Minerva McGonagall, deputy headmistress of the well-renowned school of Hogwarts, frowned before shaking her head, "I've been watching them all day, the shrieking in the early of dawn got me wondering just what was going on in their household, and you should see the way they act, so pompous and full of themselves as if everyone was beneath them! They spoil their child in ways that I wouldn't even begin to imagine and the affection they show, or try to show to each other, can be described as overwhelming, in quite a disgusting way."

"Even so, they are the only living relatives he has. Lily gave up so much for little Harry here, and it would be wrong of us to not continue with the form of protection that she chose for her son." Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore gently chided his colleague and long-time friend, before sighing, "I know they aren't the best examples of muggles, but even so, they'll have to do."

McGonagall stayed silent for a moment, before resigning to his logic, "If you say so, Albus."

Truth be told, she had thought of hundreds of different ways in which Harry Potter could be taken care of, yet she knew that the protection that the boy would have might not be enough to fend off pursuers of the Dark Lord. A protection field by blood is far stronger than any other defensive mechanisms that could be offered. However, judging from her observance of these muggles, she doubted young Harry Potter would grow up in a normal environment.

Nevertheless, Albus' words did ring true in her ears, and hence there was nothing else for her to do but wait and see. A normal life for this boy was what Albus wanted, the fame and glory did not and could not measure up to the loss of his parents, and for fear that the boy might led into developing arrogant qualities or being pampered too much, it was finally decided that living with his muggle relatives would be the best way for him to grow up. Fame could be a lethal thing, Albus would know, he has, after all, been on the receiving end of a rather unforgiving press countless of times.

Even so, staring at the child in his arms, the old man couldn't help but doubt himself. Was he really doing the right thing? The memory of the Potter Household in ruins had imprinted itself deeply in his mind, the dead bodies of Lily and James adding injury to the wounds in his heart. When he had broken news of the prophecy to them, the despair and looks of resignation on their faces had torn at his heart, but there was no other thing to it. Voldemort had picked little Harry as his equal, simply because Lily had been a muggle-born as well. He had arranged for them to be protected, ensuring the Fidelius charm was in place so that they would never be found, yet even as he did all that he could to ensure their safety, they had perished in the end.

Countless times, he had regretted not being their secret keeper, and his mind raged at all the other possibilities of defense he could have offered them, and it all boiled down to the simple words 'if only'. Caught in his reverie, his body went on auto pilot and was about to carry out the action that he had brought the boy here for.

Walking over to the doorsteps, wincing at the sigh that Minerva gave even as he bent down to lay the poor child on the cold ground, he closed his eyes and whispered a silent prayer for the boy. He had a destiny ahead of him, one that would give him far too heavy a burden then one should expect a child to carry, and yet there was nothing they could do about it. Voldemort would not stay down because of this, and even as a mere piece of soul clinging desperately to life, he would attempt to come back and regain his power.

Eyes closing at the mere thought of a child going up against an enemy of that caliber, Dumbledore gently ruffled the boy's head, before standing back up, "Let's go Minerva."

With a curt nod, the woman fell in behind his steps, throwing back occasional glances at the baby lying on the doorsteps. It was time for them to part, and she could only hope that eleven years later, he would arrive as the brilliant young man that she knew he would become. Until then, she would simply have to wait.

At Dumbledore's nod, she braced herself, ready to apparate in on his signal.

_Goodbye, young Harry. I wish you well on your path to your destiny._

And with those silent thoughts in place, she took a deep breath, and focused on her magic. Just as she was about to plunge into the rift of space and time, something prevented her from taking the leap and anchored her to the spot, a bundle of something to be precise.

Blinking, the old woman peered down into her arms, and found the same baby that they had left at the doorsteps smiling up at her, waving his chubby little arms about, making goo-goo gaa-gaa sounds as he tried to express the pleasure in being held by her.

To say Albus was surprised would be an extreme understatement. Had the boy… apparated over to them just as they were about to leave?

No, it couldn't be possible. No child, conscious or not, should be able to exhibit this type of magic. Accidental magic weren't uncommon, and did occur in some babies, yet they had always been more uncontrolled bursts, unlike the silent one that this young Potter seemed to have used.

"Albus…?" Minerva could only stare at the baby with a shocked expression that a student from Hogwarts would hardly expect their prim Transfiguration professor to have on her face.

As though sensing her thoughts, the baby giggled once, and without warning, appeared in Dumbledore's arms, cooing as he waved his arms around happily. This time, even Albus could not figure out just how this boy managed that action. Silent apparitions were practically unheard of, and it would seem that this boy was doing it consciously. His eyes, those bright green orbs glowing even as he squealed his excitement at getting a funny face for a reward of his action.

Slowly, the gears in his mind began to turn, and as though he were experimenting, the old man took a few steps toward the Dursleys' house, before young Harry's face turned into that of a pout. Whining softly, the one-year-old expressed his full displeasure at being carried off to that place by tugging hard on his beard.

Chortling, the old man shook his head, "I see, so you do not want to be placed there?" His eyes filled with mirth as the baby gave a cute squeal before settling for cooing once again.

"Minerva, I believe a change of plans is in order." His eyes twinkling as young Harry found a sudden interest in his beard again, forming all sorts of braids and shapes with it.

McGonagall could only gape even as she stared at the baby, "Albus…"

"Can you feel it?"

It was a simple question, but one that terrified the poor woman seeing how the answer was a solid 'yes'. The fact that _any_ magic could be felt from the boy spoke volumes to the reservoir of untapped potential this boy had. Normally, it would be at least four or five years before a sliver of magic could be felt from toddlers, and yet right before her, she swore there was some unseen magical force swirling in a vortex around the baby.

Taking a few steps closer, she too, gazed into his eyes upon a nudge from Dumbledore and couldn't help but get caught in the way they seemed to spiral. The energy that had felt so potent before, enough to forcefully stop her apparition brought her out of her reverie, before a sudden thought entered her mind.

"Is it… his?"

Dumbledore shook his head as a smile developed on his face, "No."

"But then how? Surely you're not suggesting…"

"Harry here seems to have received more than just a blessing from his parents. None of the magic we are experiencing now belongs to him per se. He is merely making good use of the magic in the environment."

McGonagall took one look at the blissful expression on Dumbledore's face and shook her head, "Oh no, Albus. Don't even think about it."

"Why, whatever do you mean, Minerva?" It was clear that he was holding back his laughter.

"You are _not_ bringing him back to Hogwarts with you." Answered McGonagall in a deadpan.

"Ah, you know me too well." A wide smile was present on the old wizard's face and McGonagall knew she was fighting a losing battle.

"Albus, a moment ago, _you_ were suggesting that he should be raised with these horrible muggles!"

"Ah, but the circumstances have changed. The fact that Harry is subconsciously knowledgeable in the arts of magic could only mean that Lily has given Harry more protection than simply her love. Her knowledge, understanding and control of magic have all been imprinted in her son even as Voldemort killed her. If we were to leave Harry with the muggles now, it wouldn't surprise me if he starts randomly causing magical accidents all over the place on purpose."

McGonagall was about to retort, before young Harry appeared in her arms. Blinking for the umpteenth time in the past hour, the old lady could only smile at the baby's attempts to cheer her up. His tiny hands were reaching for her, giggling as he attempted to tell her something in his incomprehensible baby language.

"It would seem that the magic is helping him in accomplishing his goals. Young Harry here must have found your expression quite saddening, and has taken it to be his duty to cheer you up." Dumbledore hummed in approval as a small smile grew on McGonagall's lips.

She knew Dumbledore was right. Harry probably thought that he needed to get to her to cheer her up, and the magic simply reacted to his call and assisted him in this mission. Given her knowledge of his muggle relatives, they would probably drive him nuts in but an hour, and Merlin knows what kinds of chaos this little devil will cook up… did he just blow her a kiss?

It would seem that young Harry was busy clapping his hands over his lips and then throwing them upwards in a swift motion, squealing as he did so. McGonagall's surprised face amused him to no end, which explained why he kept up the motions.

"I dare say he's taken a liking to you, Minerva. Quite the cradle robber, aren't you?" Dumbledore teased even as McGonagall blushed a deep red, protesting shakily, "Albus!"

"Now, now, I was merely joking."

"Don't joke about things like that!"

"Temper, temper. You don't want to set a bad example for the baby now." His voice was filled with mirth even as he met the glare McGonagall was sending him.

Taking his watch out of his pocket, Dumbledore mused for a short moment, before nodding to Minerva, "Let's get going. It would be unwise for us to remain here any longer. The ministry might already be onto Harry's little magic display, and the other professors are waiting for us."

Wincing, the deputy headmistress took one more look at the baby in her arms, before sighing, "I'm still not sure if it's a good idea. I mean, do any of us even have experience with handling a baby?"

"Why, this is the perfect chance for us to get some then."

"Sometimes, Albus, I wonder if you really are as barmy as they call you."

"Barmy? But of course, I am only a wizard."

Muttering a few choice words that a student from Hogwarts would never have heard from their Transfiguration professor even on an extremely bad day, McGonagall gave a curt nod, and apparated out of Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, with Harry Potter safe in her arms, squealing in excitement.

It would be two minutes later before Vernon Dursley peeked out of the window in an attempt to find out just what was glowing out in the streets, and three minutes before he almost fainted when little crystals of energy that looked like stars glittered back at him. Five minutes in and he would be yelling for Petunia to bring their son and have a look at this unreal scenery. Five minutes and thirty seconds later, the Dursleys would have been obliviated and removed of any memory that such glitters ever appeared.

* * *

"You cannot be serious!" Severus Snape barely put up any effort to hide his disbelief after Dumbledore's speech in his impromptu staff meeting that was held a mere ten minutes ago.

"Quite the contrary Severus, I meant every word that I said." Dumbledore smiled in amusement at the horrified look on the Potions Master. It really couldn't be helped, the poor man had just come back, grabbing his arm in pain to confirm that the Dark Lord had indeed fallen, and was looking forward to a good break without needing to play double-sided spy anymore. The other Heads of Houses were waiting for Dumbledore even as he went to retrieve young Harry, and were conversing amongst themselves as to what the future might now hold, when suddenly, two 'pops' were heard in the staff room.

A soft giggle was heard and as every single pair of eyes turned to focus on the bundle in the deputy headmistress' arms, confusion dug into them, deeper by the second.

And so, without further adieu, Dumbledore called for a meeting, where he explained his thoughts on why exactly he saw fit to bring the baby with him back to Hogwarts, and why, from this day on, each of the professors would play a role in bringing the baby up.

Once that bombshell had been dropped, it was obvious that multiple different but expected reactions would be heard, and needless to say, Snape was the first to voice his _opinion_ on this particular matter.

"I refuse to believe what I'm hearing! You're telling _us_, that we should be bringing this… this… child up because of Lily's magic in him?! Weren't you so intent on having him live a normal life mere hours ago?" The sarcasm within his voice was not missed by everyone in the room, though most swatted it aside as though it were a daily occurrence, which in fact, it was.

"Albus, I'm rather curious as to why you made this decision. Surely you don't think this will work out properly?" Filius Flitwick, Head of Ravenclaw and Charms professor hopped up onto the table to get a better look at the now quiet baby, who was expressing his curiosity by turning his head round and round so that he could get a better view of the people he was surrounded by.

Pomona Sprout, Herbology Professor of Hogwarts and Head of Hufflepuff, agreed with her colleague, "He is but a baby! How will we tend to his needs when we are mostly busy with our own courses every year?"

McGonagall sighed before massaging her forehead, "Pomona, Filius, you know reasons like that have never stopped Albus from doing something he wants. I suppose he has other information to tell us, and perhaps it would be best if you wait for him to explain further."

"Well I'm not going to care for the brat, that's for sure." Snape rolled his eyes at the end of McGonagall's words.

"Now, now, Severus, do not be so sure in your words."

Almost exploding in fury, the potions master lashed out, "You expect me to care for _his_ son?! Have you really gone insane?!"

"Severus!" McGonagall barked as she glared at him, "Mind your manners!"

"Mind _what_ manners?! The Dark Lord has finally fallen, I'm finally _free_, and you're telling me I have to look after the son of the man whom I absolutely despise?!"

Laying a hand on Snape's shoulder, Dumbledore spoke quietly with authority, "That is enough, Severus. I know how you dislike James, but think of it is a way to help Lily. The Dark Lord didn't just lose his power tonight. He lost it to young Harry here."

"Well that's quite convenient isn't… wait, what did you say?" Cutting short his cynical replay, his eyes widened as he stared at the headmaster, along with the other three Heads of houses, "Didn't you say it was Lily…?"

Nodding gravely, Dumbledore shook his head, "It was indeed. Lily had given up her life for Harry, hoping against hope that her protection would be able to protect her son and aid him in her future endeavors. Subconsciously, her regret and pain at not being able to be there for her son anchored themselves into the protection, and as the Avada Kedavra was repelled, Voldemort's power was drained and in turn, purified by her wish to punish the man that had broken her family so. This is ancient magic at its finest, working on levels that would be difficult for anyone to predict."

Gesturing to the baby, who had silently apparated back to his arms yet again just to play with his beard, Dumbledore continued in a solemn voice, "Do you know why young Harry here seems so energetic, and not the least bit confused and depressed as to why his parents aren't with him?"

Everyone was at a loss for words, though the other three Heads of houses were more shocked by the fact that the baby just appeared in Albus' arms more than anything.

"Severus, you should be able to feel it." Stepping forward, he gently eased the baby into a dumbfounded Snape's arms, "She lives on, _within him_."

The moment those bright green orbs came into his view, Snape was pulled back into memories of his childhood with one Lily Evans, the only woman he had ever loved. Bittersweet pasts and tranquil times he had been through with her all came flashing back, and with a wistful sigh, he shook his head, "No, he's not her. What lives in this boy is merely a tint of her magic imprint, nothing more."

"That is where you're wrong Severus, it is much more than an imprint. It is a bond of love, her magic reassuring the boy that she is there for him. Young Harry, to this moment I believe, thinks that his mother is right at his side, just like old times. Despite not being able to see her, he is able to feel her on a spiritual basis."

Staring back down at the baby boy who was now gesturing towards his face, little fingers curling and stretching, as though reaching for something, and it didn't take him long to figure out that the brat was probably aiming for his nose. Lily had always teased him about his crooked nose, saying how it fitted his personality perfectly, and a playful banter would always begin after that comment. It merely emphasized on Dumbledore's words that perhaps Lily really was living in this boy after all.

McGonagall sighed upon the look on Snape's face, "Severus…"

"I know." His reply was short and instant, "I'm just… caught up… in…"

It was Flitwick who spoke up next, "What about the other professors?"

Albus smiled serenely and replied, "They'll all be informed of course."

It was a skeptical voice that interrupted him, "You weren't serious about us taking turns to take care of him, were you, Albus?"

Sprout's eyes widened, "_Take turns?_"

Even Snape's head snapped up at this, "We have to handle this… this _baby_ alone?!"

Fully letting his amusement show, Albus gave a cheerful nod, "Why yes."

It was a pity Hogwarts would never again be treated with the sight of a flabbergasted Snape. And it was no wonder the potions master felt horrified. He was the youngest Head of House compared to the other three, and all through his life, it had always been practicing dark arts, learning occlumency, legilimency, and brewing every single potion that existed. Taking care of a baby was not included in his daily list of to do things, _ever_.

"It's alright Severus, you'll have plenty of chance to learn." Minerva noted dryly as she quoted Albus' answer to her a few hours ago.

Sprout seemed the most worried out of them and asked, "Surely you can't mean that Albus, this is a baby we're talking about, a delicate little boy! How can you just leave him at the whims of men who had never even looked at a baby before?"

Albus started for a bit, "Now, now, Pomona, I'm sure that Severus…"

"Has never looked at a baby before." Minerva finished for him.

"If it weren't for the fact that it was close to the truth, I would feel hurt." Snape drawled in as dry a manner as McGonagall, "But yes, I admit that I have barely spared a glance for creatures like this."

"Creatures you say! How dare you, Severus! Look at the darling little boy! Oh!" Sprout was about to go on a tirade ranting at the potions master when Harry took it in himself to apparate into her arms, and make goo-goo-a-ga-ga sounds at her. "Aw, aren't you just a darling boy!"

Even Filius joined in the fun and tickled little Harry, and as the duo were having some fun with the baby, Severus was on the other side vehemently refusing to have anything to do with Harry.

"Come now, Severus, you're being awfully difficult."

"Albus, the moment I look at him I see James Potter. The moment I see those eyes I'm reminded of Lily. Okay, that's fine, I've listened to you, I've gotten over it. But no way in _hell_ am I going to associate myself with a baby. Can you even imagine what it would look like?" Severus ground out, trying his best to convince Dumbledore that taking care of babies was not his forte.

"I would say it would make you look soft, Severus, can't imagine that being a good thing, can it? What with you and your dramatic flair of things." Minerva rolled her eyes at the feeble excuse, "Look at Filius, he's taking the news fine!"

"You forget that he's _twice_ my age?!"

"What's your point? Age has nothing to do with this I assure you." Wrinkling her nose, Minerva frowned at the potions professor, "Are you trying so say something here…?"

Severus sneered, "You would know, wouldn't you, you old cat."

"Why I never! Severus Snape, you take that back this instant!"

"Let's move back to the situation at hand, lest some people get sensitive to the words I'm about to say." A smug smirk on his face was all it took for Minerva to fire back her retort.

"I will not be patronized by a bat so filled with grease that he glides across the hallway!" McGonagall snarled as she demanded an apology from Snape.

Eyes bugging out at the ridiculous insult sent his way, Snape lashed back, "At least I don't spy on people by acting like a lost feline!"

Gasping indignantly, Minerva yelled back, "This, coming from the boy who is so bad at Legilimency that he has to ram his way through a person's mind to get information?!"

"I am _not_ a boy!"

"I am _not _old!"

All through their quarrel, Albus merely sat in his chair, eyes twinkling as chaos ensued.

_Mission accomplished.

* * *

_

And so it was settled. The four Heads of Houses would take their turns from Monday to Thursday, then Dumbledore would have young Harry in his office for Friday. Saturday was reserved for Madam Pomfrey because the nurse absolutely insisted that she be given a day to raise this adorable boy. Sunday was quite the dilemma, and it was finally decided that Bathsheda Babbling, the Ancient Runes Professor, would look after him.

After all, given the remaining choices, most doubted that the Care of Magical Creatures Silvanus Kettleburn would be a good role model given his more reckless way of handling things. Madam Hooch did volunteer, but then thought about how flying wasn't perhaps the most ideal thing to teach a one year old, and had withdrawn. Madam Prince, the Librarian contemplated as to how much she could handle the noises that the baby would make, and instantly declined, offering to help out when the boy was older. Professor Binns was an obvious no go, though the other ghosts were invited to give helpful suggestions when they felt like it.

It was rather amusing to see Minerva stress the word _'helpful'_ as she glared at each of them, scaring Peeves off with imaginary tears running down his cheeks, crying about how the old woman was like the devil. Naturally, Albus took the opportunity to once again tease her, while Severus smirked at the old bit.

The Astronomy and Arithmancy professors quickly declined, seeing how they were both elderly and more than a bit sickly, finding their usual courses tiring enough as it is at the age of over a hundred, and preferred to take things easy for the rest of their years. Likewise, the same went for the Muggle Studies professor, who admitted in an embarrassing tone that he had no idea how to handle babies.

The Defense against the Dark Arts professor had unfortunately, met his demise while he was on a trip. No one exactly bothered to remember him, seeing how he had been off doing something, somewhere at some particular time, and the fact that every single Defense against the Dark Arts professor died because of approximately the same reasons, the other professors learned to not question the curse of that seat anymore. No one really liked that fellow anyway.

Professor Trelawney was immediately rejected by Minerva, insisting fervently that she did _not_ want the young boy to be caught up in something as stupid as divination at such a young age. Naturally, Trelawney heard none of her protests, and merely thought that Albus was being kind to her in letting her take a rest. After all, the old fellow insisted that it was _exactly_ why they didn't need her to take care of Harry, the arts of Divination far exceeded the need to tend to a boy after all, and she was better off spending time reading her tea leaves.

And so it was settled. Funnily enough, things tended to change, and before long, several reasons popped up as to why this schedule simply would not work.

* * *

Monday meant that Young Harry was to stay with the cool Slytherin Head of House. It was the summer holidays (thank goodness) and Hogwarts was relatively silent. That was one thing he enjoyed about the holidays, no stupid punks running about corridors, yelling their throats hoarse over some pathetic prank they had just played on one of their friends to ruin his wonderful morning.

He would have a nice breakfast, drink a hot cup of coffee, before entering his office, sitting down at his favorite desk, then go through a set of documents that needed to be approved. It was his usual procedure, and despite recent years making it extremely hectic for him to carry out such a simple course of action, he kept his routine flawless, just as he ensured how his potions were, _flawless_.

The poor man would soon find out that it was not to be so. His morning started off with him being rudely awakened by the wails of young Harry, leading him to almost rage at the damn infant with words not fit for the ears of child, before he forcefully held himself back, counted to ten, then contemplated casting a _Silencio_ charm over the baby.

Naturally, the answer was _'no'_. This was Lily's child after all, and despite him looking like an exact copy of that thrice-damned James _Potter_, he would be civil, like Albus suggested, let the bygones be bygones (again, like Albus suggested), and he would take good care of Lily's son because he owed her that much. That was the conclusion he came to after a whole night's of tossing and turning in bed.

Keeping that thought in mind, he reached forward with the intention of calming the infant down, before he froze.

_Just how do you calm a crying baby down…?_

Now this was quite the predicament. Racking his brains for answers, he first tried shushing the young boy, making wild gestures and stupid faces as he desperately hoped for the little thing to just _shut up_. Alas, it was to no avail as the boy simply sobbed louder. It wouldn't be long before every single person in Hogwarts heard his cries and without a second though, he raised a soundproof charm around his room and set about to work.

Conjuring up things that he thought passed as toys (I.e toy snakes, snake plushies, plastic fangs and the like), he waved them above the boy's head, thinking that _surely_, the boy would take pleasure in seeing these wonderful playthings and stop crying.

The fact that Harry actually raised on his chubby hands, and _punched_ the toy snake away from his face was quite insulting. How dare he do that?!

_I've always wanted one of this when I was young! How dare…_

Quickly reining those thoughts in, he tried to reassure himself that he was _not_ going to be driven crazy by a mere child, nor was he going to be defeated in such a revolting manner by James Potter's child!

So, he tried again, this time conjuring up a violin, and attempted to let it play automatically some random melody that he had once heard five years ago. Let's face it, he wasn't that much of a fan of music and needless to say, Harry's wailing increased in volume.

It didn't take the potions master long to figure out this mathematical equation. It was quite simple really. The volume at which Harry wails is proportional to the number of tries Snape took to calm the boy down.

Let it be said that everyone had his limits, and finally Snape could take the yelling no more and proceeded to tear of his hair, quite literally. This little devil was out to get him! No matter what he did, the boy would just cry and cry and _cry_ on his damn desk! How did he even get there in the first place?! Was it Dumbledore? Did that old fart see it fit to ruin his morning like this simply because he won the tiny rock-paper-scissors competition last night?! He had assumed that winning meant that he wouldn't have to see this brat so soon, but he should have known better judging from the twinkling in the old man's eyes.

In the midst of his rage, Snape noticed that something was dripping from his desk. His beautiful, elegant piece of antique, the one possession he treasured the most in his office, was wet with a liquid.

Idly, Severus wondered if it was due to the tears of the baby. But then, that option was ruled aside when a faint stench started waffling up his nose. Wrinkling that crooked organ of his, his eyes widened even as all the other professors were jolted awake from the high-pitch scream emitted from his throat that pierced right through the castle walls, "Did you just piss on my desk?!"

A relieved coo was his answer as little Harry waved his arms happily, giving the professor the widest good morning smile he could muster. It did feel good to release ones bowels after holding them in for so long…

"Oh no, oh no no no, don't even think about it!" Snape snarled even as he held the boy up from his bundle, and _spurt_, brown substances began raining down from the baby's bottom.

"You dare dump your faeces on my desk you little shi –"

"SEVERUS!" A red faced Minerva barged in through the door even as she rescued young Harry from Snape, who looked like he was going to go bonkers any second now.

"Watch your language! This is a baby you're talking to!"

"Look at what he's done to my desk!"

"Oh grow up, it's just a desk. A simple scourgify should do it and you know that. Now get dressed and go eat breakfast. I'll clean up Harry for you."

And it was after a simple _scourgify_ later, that McGonagall carried an obedient Harry nuzzling against her cheeks, whispering silly pronunciations into her ear as she carried him off to the Great Hall.

Even as the door closed, Snape could only gape as the baby gave him a cheerful wave.

The little beast had _winked_ at him.

Grinding his teeth together, he set up a stronger soundproof forcefield this time round, ensuring that nothing could penetrate his barrier, before screaming non-stop for a minute, "CURSE YOU JAMES POTTTEEEEEERRRRRRR!"

It would be awhile before a completely ruffled and disgruntled potions master met the others for breakfast.

* * *

Tuesday, meant that it was Professor Sprout's turn, and it was at the greenhouse where young Harry spent most of his time. Hundreds of different types of plants being introduced to him one by one, and it was there where the professor fell even more in love with this boy.

For every new plant she showed him, the boy was able to come up with a different sound to express himself. It was utterly cute and deliciously adorable!

Towards the end, Sprout was so caught up in the noises he made that she didn't even bother to tell him the names of them, merely pointing and asking, "How's that one look Harry?"

"Gaaa!"

"Oooh, you like it? What about that one?"

"Uuuga!"

"Not so much? Pity, I quite like those leaves. The one in the corner?"

"Ga gaa!"

"Ah ha! I knew you would like it! Aren't those flowers just gorgeous?"

"Gaaaa!"

"Haha, that's our Harry, what about the one over here?"

"Goooo!"

"Hm, yeah I'll admit it doesn't look too inviting, that's for sure."

"Goo goo!"

"That one? Ouch, you sure picked a nasty one."

"Goo gaa goo!"

"That one's alright, like you said, but give it some time, it'll grow up into something completely different."

"Geeh goo?"

"I know so."

"Geeh gaa!"

"Good boy, now tell me about that one."

"Geeeeeh!"

"Yes, it does look pretty yucky doesn't it? But it does make a good stew every now and then if you cook it right. That reminds me, I need to pop down to the kitchen later to give them some of those."

"Gaa geh?"

"Mmmm hm! You'll get to try some tonight! I assure you that they aren't poisonous."

"Gaaa gaa!"

"Hehe, hungry now are we? What say you we go to the kitchen now? Might get you some afternoon tea too."

"Gaaauuuu!"

"That's the spirit! Oh, just one last one before we go, what do you think about my latest addition to the greenhouse?"

"Ga goo?"

"That one yes."

"Geeeeeeeeh!"

"Aww, you don't like it?"

"Gaa gaa."

"I admit it does like biting people every now and again, but it has lots of uses!"

"Gauuu."

"Skeptical are we? Well, let me tell you something about it… hey!" Slapping the plant that tried to bite Harry, Pomona growled, "Don't let me catch you doing that again, or you're getting turned into fertilizer! Are we clear?"

The plant whimpered once, and shrunk back into its original position.

"Gaa gaa gaa!"

"Aw, I love you too sweetie, I'm sorry the big bad plant tried to eat you. It won't happen again, I promise!"

"Goo goo!"

"Now, let's get you that afternoon tea then. The rest of you be good!"

As one, all the plants gave some form of gesture that they understood their roles.

* * *

Wednesday came, and it was Flitwick's turn to entertain young Harry, and as a Charms professor, it would seem that the task wasn't too difficult at all. Making pillows fly all over the room seemed mighty interesting to the one year old and the cheers that he made grew louder as the numbers increased.

Staring at the baby, Flitwick couldn't help but be reminded of Lily every time he looked into those eyes. His mother had a passion unrivaled by others in Charms, and was one of his favorite students. It would seem that this particular trait lived within young Harry as well, judging by how eager he was at watching those pillows.

The only tragedy was that Harry seemed to have mistaken him for a pillow and decided to have some fun on his own, namely float _him_ around as well. While it wasn't entirely a disaster, it was still shocking to know that a mere baby like him could attempt something that no one under the age of eleven should be able to accomplish. It would seem that the Dark Lord's magic really does reside within him, and well, the execution was probably due to his mother's magic.

That got Flitwick thinking. Why not try teaching him now then? Surely if Harry was interested in something, all he had to was to demonstrate it once in front of him, and the boy should be able to replicate the action.

Filius then broke down Charms into several basic categories. Making objects move along a horizontal axis, summoning objects and floating objects. Despite the fact that the accio spell was something that is only learned around the third or fourth year, Flitwick felt it was the easiest spell for him to 'teach' Harry at the moment.

Smiling, he placed a curious Harry on the desk a few metres away, before moving backwards and casting a perfect _accio_. The squeals of joy the infant made as he flew through the air safely into Flitwick's arms informed the professor that he definitely had Harry's attention.

And so, it was time to test if Harry really was able to subconsciously make use of the magic within him to carry out actions that he wanted to do. So this time, he moved away, and simply spread his arms out, gesturing for Harry to come towards him. Obviously, it was impossible for him to do that, and the only way that the baby could even reach him would be to summon him.

At first, he simply pouted, tiny hands reaching out, wanting to play with the professor. However, Flitwick remained patient, choosing to wait and see how things play out. And true to his prediction, Harry did in fact, wandlessly and wordlessly summoned him. It was fascinating to see this child go to work, and from then on, Flitwick came up with all sorts of creative ways to get Harry to be more proactive in 'playing' with charms.

Needless to say, both had a fantastic time, and by the end of the day, it was with great regret that Flitwick said goodnight to Harry, thinking that it would be another week before he got to play with him again.

* * *

Thursday with McGonagall was extremely eventful. Young Harry simply sat there in his chair, and watched quietly as Minerva went about her daily duties. They had made a deal right from the start. If he could sit quietly until she finished her work, she would give him a surprise.

It absolutely warmed her heart when the infant seemed to understand her every word and obeyed her without much hesitation. It felt good to be trusted so quickly, though part of the reason was probably because she rescued him from that obnoxious Snape a few days ago. Speaking of which, perhaps she should remind herself to bring detergent to the next staff meeting. Severus might need a good old wash to ensure he doesn't corrupt dear Harry.

Shaking herself away from that line of thought and reminding herself that she will _not_ act like a teenager out to declare a prank war, she hurried through the pile of documents on her desk.

She had been highly impressed when young Harry didn't even move once while she was working, those bright green eyes following her every move, gazing at her with the utmost interest. An infant staying still was never heard of, and to think that he was staying still _because_ Minerva asked him to was even more impressive. Naturally, that only increased her adoration of the boy.

When she was done, she looked up to see Harry on her desk, waving his hands happily, wanting a hug from her as a celebration that they could finally have some fun. And hug him she did, embracing him lightly, nuzzling the boy's cheek gently, before smiling at him, "You've been a very good boy. As a reward, I'll be your playmate for the rest of the day."

At first, Harry tilted his head, not understanding what she meant, but then a moment later, instead of the nice old lady, a silver tabby cat with strange markings around its eyes appeared, and purred at him softly.

Gasping in delight, the infant proceed to spend the entire afternoon playing with it. It would be hours later when a tired McGonagall carried Harry off to bed.

* * *

Friday came, and it was off to Dumbledore's office. A lemon drop later, Harry was introduced to his lovely companion, Fawkes. The phoenix chirped melodically as it cuddled with Harry, clearly enjoying his presence. Next up was the Sorting Hat, and for some weird reason, Harry liked it a lot, using every opportunity he had to try and hide in it. Then there were those portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses, and every single one of them had enjoyed watching young Harry bustle his way about the room. Dumbledore had released him from his usual bundle and allowed him to crawl as much as he wanted.

The boy was extremely thorough, examining every nook and corner he could find while Dumbledore simply sat back and observed him. Harry had immense potential and the future ahead of him seemed so straight forward. Any old plans that Albus had for Harry was thrown out of the window.

Given the current situation, Harry was well on his way to becoming the most powerful wizard ever to exist. Reason being that Harry was starting with about the same amount of magical energy as him, and he was well over a hundred years old. Magical cores within wizards and witches increase their output gradually over the years, and with constant use and training, the efficiency of that output will again increase, until it reaches a limit.

Harry was only one year old, and he was already on par with Dumbledore in terms of sheer magical essence, that is, the ability to feel and use magic from the surroundings. Quantity wise, he wasn't that far off either, after all, Voldemort was considered Dumbledore's equal. He would ensure the boy learned all that he could about magic, providing him with as many opportunities as he could, because he knew, right from the moment that Harry had silently apparated into Minerva's arms, that this boy was destined for great things.

Who knows, one day he might even change the entire wizarding world.

Chuckling to himself even as Harry continued to braid his beard throughout his thinking process, Dumbledore chided himself inwardly for treating Harry like an object. This was a child, Lily and James' child, and he would protect him, which was the only he could think of to even begin to apologize for his lack of effort in ensuring their safety.

He was just an old man who makes as many mistakes as one would expect from anyone else. He had flaws, he wasn't perfect, and he definitely should not have taken things for granted. Sighing to himself, he handed young Harry to Fawkes even as the bird carried the drowsy boy off to bed. The day had passed by with him simply gazing at the boy, his mind working furiously as to how he could help him to the best of his abilities, and then, Dumbledore finally came to a conclusion.

He would let the boy venture by himself. Overwhelming him with knowledge would do more harm than good. No, he had learnt from his mistakes, and he would not force Harry to go on a path that wasn't chosen by himself. He shall man his own destiny.

It didn't surprise him that Fawkes did not return that night.

* * *

Saturday was spent with Madam Pomfrey, who joyfully spent the day lecturing away about the importance of medicinal magic. There was quite a difference between that and restoration magic. Medicinal magic was more about how to administer health recovery on a long term basis, whereas restoration magic generally dealt with matters that require instant attention.

Surprisingly enough, Harry listened with rapt attention, not interrupting her even once, and when she finally ended, the glowing of Harry's eyes as he stared at all the bottles of liquids in the Infirmary had her proud. Surely this young one would grow up to become a sensible wizard who would _not_ put himself in danger with reckless abandon, unlike some of his relatives.

The more interesting thing was that all throughout the 'lecture', Harry found himself submerged in a basin filled with some sort of liquid. And by the hour, Poppy would change the contents within the basin and get him to continue soaking, and only letting him out when it was time to eat.

It would be years later when Harry would joke about how he didn't even feel normal physical injuries anymore because of the multiple healing potions that Poppy had used on him in his childhood.

Sunday was about the same, Professor Babbling had done pretty much what Poppy had done, excluding the soaking bit, and choosing instead to let Harry play with runes. The runes were like a jigsaw puzzle, and she gave Harry as much room as he needed to play around with them, and to say she was amused that he solved pretty much all the puzzles she had set out for him within the day would be an understatement.

After being told of the truth as to why Harry Potter was brought to Hogwarts, she had created theories as to just what the magic could do for this young boy. She had prepared all week, coming up with different levels of puzzles just so that she could see for herself the true potential that lies within this boy. And he had passed with flying colours. It didn't surprise her that he could solve them, just that he did them at such a fast pace.

Of course, had it been a normal one year old, Bathsheda wouldn't have given them even a tenth of what she gave Harry.

The plus side to watching Harry work through the problems was that he had this extremely cute expression on his face when he needed to think. To him, it was probably something like, 'Aw, the pieces aren't in place! Why don't they fit?' or simple thoughts like that, when in actual fact, most of them required complicated thinking processes and logic to explain where each of the runes should go. The ease at which Harry worked through her problems had Bathsheda giving Harry a big kiss on the cheek as a reward. Needless to say, Harry slept extremely peacefully that night, given how he had used lots of brain power in the day.

It wouldn't be long before he awoke to the sounds of an outraged groan, followed by a shriek of "Not you again!" But given all that's happened, Harry really liked his first week here. And that was why with a smile, he proceeded to greet Snape the usual way.

"Get away from my desk now you little piece of – "

"SEVERUS SNAPE!"

"Look at my desk! I don't believe this, he's doing it on purpose, isn't he?!"

"Ridiculous! He's but a child!"

And as the argument continued, young Harry merely smiled as he felt the mirth of his parents within him. They weren't really there, but somehow, he felt as though he had done the right thing.

His mother felt ever so close, her soft voice whispering to him in his sleep, making sure he was not alone, and his father, gently patting him as they gazed at him lovingly. They told him that they couldn't be with him physically anymore, but they would always be by his side, and he understood. Their magic was one with his, and he embraced the feeling of it.

Harry Potter wasn't alone, not by a far stretch. He had a family at Hogwarts, and one within his heart. He would never see his parents alive again, but they've never really died. They would live on forever within him, and he would make them proud, just as how he was going to make everyone at Hogwarts proud. That was his vow as a one-year old.

This was the beginning of his story.

* * *

_**And there's the end! Took me long enough. **_

_**There are a few things I wanted to elaborate on. Snape getting used to Harry over just one night seemed a bit too short but it wasn't completely unreasonable. Note that this isn't exactly following canon, so bear with me for now. I'll explain later as to why Snape acted the way he did. Keep in mind that he is relatively young, compared to ten years later. People change over time. **_

_**Second thing, where am I going with this fic. Well, the next few chapters would start with Harry gaining allies, and I'm going to be fast forwarding the timeline a bit because frankly, it's quite hard to get you guys to believe that he is that smart for a one year old. Harry will be powerful, he will be clever and he will change the wizarding world. **_

_**But be rest assured, he won't be invincible at age two or anything like that, and stuff will still happen to him. Just play along with the script for now.**_

_**Oh, and do review and tell me how you guys think it went. Cheers. =D**_


	2. The Day They Met

_**A/N: I'm back for more! Hopefully you guys are as well. Seeing how first chapter was pretty well received, I've decided to just keep going. A few of you mentioned your eagerness for Fleur to appear, well, if all goes well, you should have seen her by the end of this chap, if not, my apologies.**_

_**There was one review that ticked me off. It was anonymous, which made it even worse because I couldn't even begin to ask where the guy got his idea from. Apparently, I had taken ideas from other stories to start mine and that the mention of Jeconais made it all the more ominous. **_

_**Now, you guys have to understand that the one thing I dislike is being framed. Just a heads up, please give me proof if you think I'm plagiarizing, if not, please shut up. It really gets me annoyed when I spent lots of time creating this fic, and one guy comes along and discredits it without a care. It's quite insulting really. Well at least the rest of you had common sense not to doubt me. =/**_

_**Another review encouraged me to make this as good as JBern's "The Lie I've Lived". Boy, now that's a hard thing to accomplish, but I have replied that I'll try my best and work at it. Those of you who hadn't read it, I recommend you pop in and take a look. **_

_**That aside, let's get this party started! =D**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

* * *

**_

A Wizard's Magic

Chapter 2: The Day They Met

Life went on in Hogwarts with a regularity that might have surprised a few people, but nevertheless, the take-care-of-Harry campaign had worked wonders to this point. The only real complaint was from Snape, where he insisted the brat was James Potter reincarnated, born to torment him all day and night. One would think that he would have gotten used to young Harry by now, but apparently, that was not the case.

Usual cries of "Not again!" and "Can't you just leave my desk _alone_?" were heard whenever it was Snape's turn to look after Harry, and truth be told, most of the staff found it extremely entertaining to watch the arrogant Potions Master be driven to wit's end by a mere toddler. The fact that Harry was just cute that way was a bonus.

Despite Severus vehemently protesting that Harry was making any progress in terms of 'learning', everyone could see that the little boy had probably gotten all the ingredients memorized by now. It quite horrified Minerva that Snape had literally thrown Harry into his ingredients cupboard and locked it with five different spells _and_ ten different mechanical locks, just to ensure the little devil will not be anywhere close to his desk while he worked on it. Granted, after all those 'games' with Flitwick, Harry wouldn't even have to concentrate too much before every single one of those locks were picked in some way or another. Well, that or simply apparate back out of the cupboard, but statistics show that Harry preferred to play with the locks.

Back on topic, every time Snape shoved Harry into the cupboard, it just so happened that the contents within them change, and the result was Harry being introduced first hand to about ninety percent of the ingredients that were commonly used in most potions, with a few exceptions for the more exquisite ones.

In one of the meetings, the Potions Master grumbled about how the little brat was actually of some use when he was trying to create a new potion. It would seem his feel of magic worked even with the ingredients, and basically, if Snape was about to add the wrong one, Harry would keep pulling on his cloak until he changed it. Many wondered how Harry could actually reach Snape's cloak if the Potions Master despised the boy's presence as much as he proclaimed, and it turned out that Snape had placed the boy right next to the cauldron just to keep an eye on him.

Of course, everyone guessed that he probably hoped the boy would just drop in while he was fooling around and Minerva was furious. Barking at the Head of Slytherin, she firmly expressed her displeasure at him endangering young Harry, though it lacked conviction seeing how she herself knew that Harry always seemed to be aware of his surroundings. Then again, Snape couldn't care less about Harry's welfare, so yelling at him was perfectly justifiable.

Anyway, Dumbledore ventured a guess that Harry could probably tell what the ingredients do by feeling the magic within them. Combine it with stuff from Ancient Runes that Babbling had him working through (the puzzles), it was almost like magic solidified, placed into blocks, and then adding them up, multiplying them and stuff like that to see which would work and which wouldn't.

Of course, it was hard to believe that a one year old could do all this, but this time, Bathsheda came up with her theory of how Harry wasn't even looking at things in such a complicated way. He was merely working through the things like they were toys, and thinking them on a base level, ignoring the theories of magic seeing how he didn't know they existed, ignoring the boundaries of magic, again because he didn't know they existed, and generally just playing around with the stuff around him to have fun.

Minerva accepted that reason easily enough, especially when it seemed to irk Snape more, seeing how that would mean Harry was treating his job like some sort of playground.

And so life went on as usual for a few months, and then the plans had to be changed. Reason being that a new year at Hogwarts was about to begin and students will soon be roaming all over the castle, and after much decision, it was decided that Harry should be kept out of sight for now, simply because they felt it would be awkward if the baby was suddenly introduced to fame and stuff like that.

Only two weeks were left before the term would start, and Dumbledore was having quite a headache deciding where he should leave Harry during classes. He certainly couldn't just dump the boy in his office, because knowing him, Harry would simply get bored and apparate out to find him, demanding to play with his beard.

He could let Fawkes take care of Harry, but then again, the chances of the Phoenix carrying the boy straight off to the Summer Palace where fairies and other magical creatures of light resided was too high. Normally, he wouldn't mind, but again, knowing Harry, the boy might form bonds with half of them in under a minute, and it just wouldn't do for him to have that many familiars at age one. It would mean all the magical creatures bombarding Hogwarts just to make sure Harry was fine, and while he appreciated the gesture, it would cause chaos beyond any doubt. So that solution was a no go.

Let the Ghosts take care of him? Definitely not a wise decision. Considering how some were older than he was, Harry getting bored within the hour was quite likely.

Placing him with Hagrid would be really risking it. The amount of chaos Harry might cause because of the fact that he had the half-giant around his pinky might have had something to do with Dumbledore's instant declination when Hagrid offered to help.

In the end, it would seem the kitchen was the most suitable place. He had seen Harry play with the elves before and the way he interacted with them was one that made him go all twinkly in his eyes.

Harry would ignore any elf that called him 'master Harry', and the time taken for them to realize that would have been way more than five minutes had Dumbledore not stepped in and given them a slight hint. From there, the elves soon learned the basic rule with Harry was to treat him like he was one of their own. Naturally, some protested that it was not worthy of them for the great Harry Potter to be that close to them. The fact that they were staring at the one year old with eyes as wide as saucers while insisting that they were unfit to be in his presence amused the old man to no end.

And so it was settled. Harry pouted as Dumbledore and the others explained to him how he would have to stay with the elves when they were busy, but they reassured him that they would come pick him up the moment they find themselves free. It must have looked pretty hilarious, what with Harry sitting there giving off the world's most powerful puppy-eye look while adults (elderly ones at that) crowded around him trying to placate him into agreeing with their arrangements.

Eventually, Harry gave in, he was cuddled by the professors (except Snape), and went back to the being the good little boy that he was. Time went on, classes started and off the school year went.

There were occasions when the professors themselves felt utterly embarrassed by their behavior, with Snape being so frustrated that not one of the students, not even his Slytherins, could successfully concur a seventh year potion that he had set for the mock NEWTs exams. The phrase "A one year old could do this, with far more efficiency and elegance that you brutes could ever hope to achieve!" was forever recorded in the books of history as the harshest insult Snape had ever given to a class with his Slytherins in it.

The fact that Snape almost rammed his head into the wall later on when he realized that he had grown so accustomed to Harry's _correct_ advices on potions that he was using the brat as a standard way of measuring his students. The fact that Harry could lead him to multiple new discoveries in the 'realm' of Potions, as he liked to think of it, was extremely gratifying, even if he would never admit it in public. The boy was a gem, aiding him in ways that surprised him every time.

At first, he had thought of Harry randomly chucking things into his potion as a mere means of mischief, trying to screw him over even more, but just as he was about to rage at the toddler, the potion he had been brewing turned on a silvery hue, one that was said to only occur once in a blue moon. Magical essence was extremely important when it came to potion brewing and it wasn't the first time potion masters have found themselves completely helpless at understanding just what conditions needed to be met for their potions to further 'evolve' into something that was _perfect_, instead of just the usual norm.

His current potion, a Sleeping Draught that was made to be stored in his cupboard just in case one of the professors suffered from an occasional nightmare and couldn't sleep properly. Naturally, the one he was making would guarantee a dreamless, peaceful sleep. One would expect nothing less from a Potions expert like him.

However, the moment the potion turned silver, it meant that dreamless effect was to be replaced with a good dream. That had only happened once in a potions accident ten years ago somewhere in Europe, where a certain wizard showed the world a tiny portion of the Silver Sleeping Draught he had left, it was recorded into the Potions Index but no one had ever been able to replicate it ever again.

Severus had stared at the Silver Potion, carefully ladled it out and placed it into a flask, and contemplated whether he should try it or not. There was always the possibility that the silvery hue was due to an error somewhere else and might have made the potions poisonous. Though that line of thought was erased because in their natural forms, a potion's colour usually tells the user the effects of it. The reason some potions were deadly despite looking quite harmless was because other ingredients were added by the potion brewer to hide the effects.

Giving the cooing Harry one last look, he sighed, before gulping down a test tube of the potion. It would be hours later before he woke up to the sight of Harry once again dumping stuff into this cauldron. Preparing himself mentally, he took a deep breath before finally staring at the new potion that a one year old was brewing.

The resulting effect was Snape getting an even wider set of eyes accompanied with a gaping mouth and other minor details that would not need to be mentioned. Nevertheless, ever since that day, Severus had pretty much begun viewing Harry was someone even more superior than he was at Potions. That was saying a lot, since Severus Snape rarely ever bowed down to anyone, much less in the subject of Potions.

So naturally, one couldn't blame him when he got a tad frustrated when a bunch of seventeen year olds couldn't even brew something a one year old did with his eyes closed, could he?

Then there was Flitwick and McGonagall, while not as harsh as Snape, still had occasional bursts of impatience, more from McGonagall than Flitwick when their students failed to execute the spells they were being taught. Sprout was slightly less affected seeing how she hadn't really _taught_ Harry anything, more introduced him to all sorts of plants, but it did dismay her more when she saw students not really paying attention to the details of those wonderful greens. Why, if it had been Harry…

Professor Babbling was the coolest of them all, despite having seen firsthand the absolute genius within Harry, she was able to separate her expectations for the 'boy who lived' and the expectations of her normal pupils. Hence, Ancient Runes carried on as they usually did, at a slow and mild pace. Bathsheda would compensate for it at night where she would create even more puzzles, harder and trickier than before, and watching with great joy and satisfaction as Harry solved them.

Madam Pomfrey didn't experience too great a change, though the major difference in her routine of looking after Harry involved soaking the boy in fluids at night instead of in the day. The potions that she used weren't exactly healing potions, but sort of like vaccines, only these vaccines didn't protect Harry from diseases, but from magical damage. Boosters, if you would like. Normally, one would think that Harry wouldn't need any extra boosting given his already large enough magical reservoir, but Poppy decided that it was better to be safe than sorry, and hence went on with it anyway.

Dumbledore was the only one who saw Harry more. His job as a headmaster meant that after taking care of all his given duties, he could do whatever he wanted. Granted, the paperwork he had to go through was always monstrous, but since he was Albus Dumbledore, that point was moot. So he would relieve the kitchen elves of Harry and generally continue his interactions with the boy.

It was just extremely fascinating to watch the boy go about doing all sorts of random stuff. The way magic just reacted to his call was absolutely enthralling. Making quills float around when he was bored showed evident success in Flitwick's 'teachings', then transforming said quills into a pillow when he got tired proved that Minerva had left a deep impression with her teachings too. Dumbledore had long since begun teaching Harry just how to talk and the boy was learning at a marvelous rate. His brain seemed to work in overdrive all the time, constantly absorbing as much information as possible, wanting knowledge, gaining knowledge and understanding the knowledge in just a matter of seconds before he moved onto the next subject.

And yes, the day came when Staff meeting was filled with silence, when each of the Heads of Houses stared at each other and gave a resigned sigh as they talked about how Harry was influencing their judgment. It's been so long since they've met such a talented individual, and the fact that the individual was merely one year old seemed to make it even worse. They couldn't help but feel that their students weren't up to their standards, simply because their standards had risen by quite a lot ever since Harry started living there.

So after much discussion, the professors calmly went over their thoughts and discussed about the matter at hand, before deciding to simply let it play out by itself. If their standards had risen so much that the students couldn't handle, then there could only be two possibilities. One would be the students picking up their slack and finally improve themselves, pushing themselves past their limits, whereas the other possibility would be them giving up completely.

The surprise came when Snape suggested that they go for it. He had mellowed out a lot ever since that potion incident and found himself less jumpy and rash compared to before. Arguments with Minerva decreased by the day and it horrified him to no end when he actually found the Transfiguration Professor to be good company. The irony doubled when Minerva felt exactly the same way.

Life at Hogwarts went on, and young Harry slowly passed his first year at Hogwarts.

Or so, they had hoped, but half way through the year, it would seem that Harry could finally take the boredom no longer. He was often seen pouting at the lack of attention he was receiving and it couldn't be helped, seeing how each of the professors had tons of exam papers to mark and go through, and it just so happened that Dumbledore had his political part of his job in full bloom around that time. Furthermore, the elves weren't exactly the most creative company one could find, and it wasn't really that much of a surprise that Harry was getting bored. The fact that he endured it for half a year was pretty impressive.

In this half year, he had probably learned more magic than three years worth of the Hogwart's syllabus, and even better, he could now speak freely. Well, freely in a broken sort of a way. His vocal chords weren't fully developed yet, and it was hard to form complete sentences, but he definitely knew how to express himself when need be.

Dumbledore soon found that Harry discovered a way to cure his boredom, and this way was giving him quite huge headaches. The toddler chose to follow the old wizard wherever he went, and it forced the old man to somewhat consider his destinations before apparating off. He was the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and that meant that around this time of the year, he had lots of meetings to hold overseas, as well as visits to families of certain prestigious politicians in the Wizarding Society in countries such as France.

There were lots more countries to be mentioned but for some reason, young Harry seemed to follow him with even more vigor every time he needed to go to France. Every single time, he had to placate the boy for at least an hour, providing him with all sorts of promises of beard braiding when he got back so as to ensure that the boy didn't attempt to apparate internationally at the age of one. Despite having knowledge of the boy being able to apparate silently, the fact remains that international apparition took more than just pure magical quantity. The quality of the magic needed to be tuned in to focus with the wizard, and the control required for this action was extremely straining for normal wizards, slightly tiring even for someone of his standard.

Add that to the fact that Lily had _never_ attempted overseas apparation before, Dumbledore wasn't quite sure as to what could happen to Harry if he did attempt to follow him. Splinching would be the _least_ of his worries, to be honest. Much worse could happen, say for example, Harry failing to land a correct destination and drowning himself in the sea instead, or Harry completely missing the mark and ending up on some other country like China. Shivers run down his spine every time he thought about it. The possibilities were endless, just like Harry himself, and that made him more uncomfortable than anything.

So far, he had been able to make Harry promise him to stay put until he returned. The boy would be reluctant at first, then give in after seeing the look of torment on the old man's face. Surely today would be no different.

He needed to pay a visit to Lumière Delacour discuss certain political matters regarding the relocation of certain magical creatures back to England, and seeing how Fudge was absolutely useless at French, Dumbledore had to take his place and try to make good use of his 'fame' to hopefully succeed in his endeavor. The thing was, Lumière Delacour was the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in the French government as well, and because of his Veela heritage, the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was his responsibility as well. It was practically unheard of for a man to be in charge of two positions at the same time, but nevertheless, the Magical French society seemed to be perfectly in acceptance of this.

Dumbledore could almost _see_ the migraine that would inevitably occur later, seeing how Fudge was making some pretty ridiculous demands, and if it had been up to him, he would have told the Minister _exactly_ what he thought of him.

Alas, he was but an old wizard, and it was times like this that made him wonder why exactly he was tolerating Fudge as Minister. The man was average at best, and completely incompetent in areas outside of his so-called work. There could be other candidates… well, not really, seeing how no one really wanted to be Minister of Magic while Voldemort was waltzing around. Fudge just got lucky because Dumbledore had grabbed him, stuffed him into the seat, and made sure that he didn't run towards the Dark Lord. And now that the Dark Lord has been defeated, the moron was running around acting like the pompous idiot he was.

Wait a second. Since when did he use words as moron and idiot? Blinking, he stared at Harry who was looking a bit too smug for his liking. "He's just a one-year old, just a one-year old…" was a phrase Dumbledore had kept repeating to himself when certain things occur and Harry just happened to be there at the same time. It was his only to calm his feeble mind down that _no_, Harry did _not_ just insert two highly condescending words into his brain while he was going through his memories…

Why _was_ he going through his memories of Fudge?

_He's just a one-year old, he's just a one-year old…_

There was just no way Harry could use Legilimens with such skill. It would take at least ten wizards combined to carefully maneuver their way into his brain recess, activate that certain memory, then slowly ease their magic into said memory and alter it to their liking. The process should have taken five hours at the very least. But no, he was pretty sure only two minutes had passed since his staring contest with Harry.

That must mean that it was all his imagination and he must have been more worried about the talk than he seemed to be and hence, it led him to say those words that he normally wouldn't say!

Yeah right, and pigs fly.

No, there was no such thing as a _magical_ pig, and even if there was, they don't fly!

_He's just a one-year old, he's just a one-year old…_

"You just wanted to know where I'm going for today and had a peek in my mind, didn't you?" Dumbledore gazed accusingly at a completely innocent looking Harry.

A tiny smile was all he had for an answer and the sigh that left the old man's lips had the toddler grinning.

"Alright, I give up. You can come with me today. Honestly, I have no idea why you have such an interest in the French."

Harry cheered and hung onto Dumbledore's beard as he bustled around the room, giving a last minute check of the documents in his office before preparing to apparate. He could have used a portkey but Harry had messed up his thought process and he was more than a few minutes behind schedule. Knowing for sure now that Harry could handle it, he closed his eyes and reached into his magical reservoir.

"ALBUS PERCIVAL DUMBLEDORE!"

Snapping his eyes open, he gaped at the sight of a murderous Minerva and a horrified Poppy.

"Where on earth do you think you're taking him to?"

Before he could even reply, Harry took the opportunity to cheer once again, "Fuwance!"

The magic surrounding Dumbledore swirled at that moment, indicating that the time was ripe for apparation and gulping, he quickly activated the energy, wanting to escape from the two women with more motherly instincts than they cared to admit.

The last words that the Headmaster heard were, "Did he just say Fran – "

* * *

Lumière Delacour was an organized person, as was his entirely family, seeing how they were after all literally the very portrayal of royalty. Veelas knew how to take care of themselves, and while male Veela didn't have as much influence mentally on others as the females did, they had more than enough to establish themselves in the society as the elite. Polite, charming and elegant, he was the epitome of gallantry.

Checking his notebook once again, he couldn't help but frown. He was supposed to be expecting Albus Dumbledore five minutes ago to discuss a ridiculous affair regarding the retrieval of certain centaurs in France. He hadn't paid much attention when the French Minister of Magic informed him of this arrangement, seeing how he knew right from the beginning that this was all but a farce to ensure that Britain and France remained amiable. Of course, he would reject any proposal that Dumbledore had brought with him, and he would go back and cry to his minister, then the British minister would then send another representative, and the French minister would get someone else to accept that idea and everything would be over and done with.

As if he had time for such foolish things. His daughter had been strangely silent for the past few months, and it was quite rare for a Veela to undergo this stage this early in her life. His wife had been doing all that she could to try and help their daughter, but it didn't seem to be working. Something just felt wrong, seeing how the normally bouncing ball of energy was currently acting like a regal lady, an image that was far too mature for her.

Granted, Veela had a relatively unstable puberty, with some even having bursts of it at irregular intervals, but all those started around the age of eight or so. His daughter was only four years old! Belle had been doing some research and discussing this matter with his mother, a pure Veela, but it would seem that neither had an inkling as to why this sudden change was occurring.

Well, his mother did put forth the idea that Fleur was merely preparing herself for her future mate, but Lumière stomped on that idea instantly. Fleur had never met another male outside of their mansion and so that option was definitely out. His mother had looked at him, sighed once and then went back to aid Belle in her research. It was quite tough for a non-Veela to know what her daughter was undergoing, and though Belle possessed more knowledge about female Veelas than an average Veela herself, she still found this situation perplexing and was currently blazing through every single Veela-related book they had in the library.

Grumbling as he looked as his pocket watch once again, he glanced up at the light blue sky, wondering if he could just forfeit the meeting with the _great_ Albus Dumbledore and go check up on his little darling instead.

A loud 'snap' shook him out of his reverie and brought his piercing gold eyes to focus on an old man with a toddler clinging on to his beard, his breathing ragged as he muttered, "I swear Harry, you're going to be the death of me."

Raising an eyebrow as the old wizard smoothened his ruffled robes and gently hefted the boy onto his shoulder, he gave a slight cough, indicating his presence, before taking a few steps forward, "Monsieur Dumbledore, I presume?"

"Yes, yes, now just a minute, I need to set up some ground rules with my boy here."

Blinking as the old man proceeded to chatter in a strict and stern voice with the boy, Lumière felt a familiar twitching around his eyebrows that did not bode well for the rest of the day.

"Now Harry, I've placed myself in grave danger just to bring you here with me. You've got what you wanted and now you _will_ promise me to be a good boy for the rest of the day! I expect no less from you." Dumbledore frowned and stared intently at Harry, "Do you promise to stay out of trouble?"

Young Harry merely smiled and replied, "Try."

That had Dumbledore thinking about the possible meanings to his reply.

"Try" as in "I will try"?

"Try" as in "I can try"?

"Try" as in "I might try but why bother"?

Rubbing his forehead, he shook his head to clear his panicking thoughts, all three literally meant the same thing!

"Harry, promise me. Now."

"No."

"… Why not?"

"Try."

The fact that he just emphasized the word 'try' again confirmed Dumbledore's thoughts that Harry was not going to promise something he might not accomplish. Harry knowing that he would not be able to stay out of trouble was quite a depressing thought to the Headmaster seeing how his chances at ending this visit on a pleasant note just went down by thirty or so percent.

On the side, Lumière stared at the hunching back of the British wizard obviously in quite a miserable state, and judging from his reaction to the child's replies in the conversation, he was probably fighting a losing battle in getting the child to stay put during their discussion. Now _that_, he could completely relate to the old man. The chances of getting Fleur to stay put a few weeks ago were literally nonexistent. Knowing that she was doing it on purpose added salt to injury, but she was his little angel and of course, all was forgiven.

Nevertheless, the fact remained that they were running out of time, and he wanted to end this little 'discussion' they had scheduled as soon as possible so he could go help his beloved wife in her research as to the abnormalities their daughter seemed to be expressing lately.

Coughing once again, "If you don't mind me interrupting, I say we get this meeting under way."

Dumbledore heaved a huge sigh, before glancing at Harry one more time with begging eyes, only to find the little devil smiling back at him as innocent as the legendary marauders. Knowing he was doomed now, Dumbledore chose instead to focus his despair on the French, "You do seem to be coughing quite a bit, are you well? Would you like a lemon drop?"

Lumière would have to be an idiot not to detect the sarcasm present in the wizard's voice and couldn't help but reply in an equally cynical tone, "No, I'm perfectly fine thank you. The cause of my coughing lies elsewhere." The way his eyes gazed right into Dumbledore's indicated _exactly_ where the cause was.

"I see." Replied Dumbledore curtly, his eyes twinkling slowly as the gears in his mind began to turn.

If this person was as willing to get this thing over with as he was, then he might be able to finish this way earlier and hurry back to Hogwarts and explain to Minerva that he was merely bringing Harry out for a stroll! Yes, that should save him.

At the same time, Lumière was thinking along similar lines, the only difference being that he would be able to see his sweet little darling sooner.

A minute later, the two men looked at each other with a renewed understanding and held out their hands, with Dumbledore introducing himself first, "Albus Dumbledore."

"Lumière Delacour. Please, follow me."

With small smiles in place, the determination on their faces was quite resolute. It was quite the tragedy when representatives of France and Britain decided it best to screw up the talk so that they could each get back to what they wanted to do.

* * *

Ten minutes later, the two were back outside on the garden, with identical smiles on their faces, "It's terrible that you would demand such things from my country. Go tell your Minister that he had better think things over before attempting to con us." Lumière stated in as obnoxious a voice as he could muster.

Dumbledore nodded with mock disappointment, "I shall keep that in mind, though I have to say I am not impressed with the way you French handle things. Why, it's as if you had not wanted to discuss this at all!"

It was then when a lady with the utmost beauty and grace had appeared behind Lumière with an extremely skeptical look, before whacking him up the back of his head with a delicate hand, "Men!"

Blinking, Dumbledore turned his attention upon the elegant female currently berating her husband in a torrent of French so fast that even a fluent speaker like Dumbledore had trouble keeping up.

Lumière sighed before replying in a much slower pace, thankfully, and Dumbledore caught bits and pieces of the conversation. Needless to say, his ears were quite red seeing how the accusations were pointed at him as well, for not carrying out the talks properly. The male Delacour's defense was that he wanted to end this quickly so that he could go help his wife, but that obviously didn't work as the female merely stared at him with an expression so blank that even Dumbledore had to admit was extremely frightening and humiliating.

Granted, she had probably seen the process of their 'negotiation', and that had involved two minutes of walking to a meeting room, two minutes of getting themselves seated comfortably and being waited on with tea and coffee, and another two minutes of quietly sipping coffee, then one minute of general chit chat, before Dumbledore asked about the relocation of centaurs, to which Lumière replied 'no', then the last few minutes was spent walking back out to the garden.

Not very eventful, was it? The only good thing that came out of it was that both men now have much better impressions of each other.

Lumière sighed, before pulling the lady into a hug, "I'm sorry dear, I'm just worried that you might tire yourself."

"Nonsense Lumière. Now why don't you introduce me to this lovely gentleman before you return and carry out the talks, _properly_." Her tone indicated that there was no escape this time.

"Yes dear." Sighing, he regained his composure, before smiling, "Albus, this is Belle, an intimidating lady who happens to be my wife."

Chuckling, the old man replied, "Yes I can see that. A pleasure, Madame Delacour."

Rolling her eyes, "Please, Belle is fine. I'm not one of them Veela Royalties so there's no need to be all that formal around me. I'm just a country maiden who got snagged by this rogue against my will."

"Yes, and pigs fly." Lumière drawled dryly.

"Are you volunteering yourself, darling?" Her smile was as deadly as it was stunning.

"Must you embarrass me so in front of a guess, Belle?" Placing a hand over his heart, the French sighed, "You wound me so."

One blank stare later and he recovered instantly, "Alright, alright, I'll do it properly. I apologize for my lack of manners Albus."

Chortling, the British wizard replied with twinkling eyes, "Not at all, it is I who should be apologizing. After all, I had the same intention as you did."

"Oh?" Lumière inquired as he looked at Dumbledore, "Would you mind if I ask…?"

"As you have probably seen from our earlier display, the boy is a handful and I'm afraid he blackmailed me into bringing him along, and as we were leaving, my fellow female colleagues caught me in the act of bringing a one-year old on an overseas apparation."

The wince on Lumière's face was enough of an answer and Dumbledore nodded appreciatively, "That was exactly how I felt."

Shaking her head in indignation, Belle crossed her arms lightly under her bosom, effectively accentuating her bust subconsciously as she growled, "Men!"

Lumière suddenly found his throat very dry, and replied, "Dear…"

"Yes I know exactly what I'm doing to you."

"Why must you be so cruel?"

"Because I'm irritated that Fleur is still behaving that way."

"And what does that have to do with me?"

Looking at him curiously, the gorgeous lady raised her eyebrow ever so slightly, before replying, "Are you sure you want to ask that?"

This was worse than the 'blank' stare, seeing how this was showing you _intentionally_ just how much of a moron she was viewing you as.

"Right, my genes, fine, be that way." Grumbled Lumière, before turning back to Dumbledore, "You have to excuse my wife, Albus, she has this weird habit of spying on me every time I have meetings. I'll have you know that she – ouch!"

Belle softly dusted the imaginary dirt of her fist as she placed it daintily beneath her chin, "I believe I just hit a fly for you."

Lumière gritted his teeth as he rose back up from the ground, "Why _thank_ you."

Dumbledore had years of experience with couples like this but it was ever so refreshing to see the comedy they put on. He could easily tell they were completely in love with one another and he felt honored that they trusted him enough to show him their playful personalities. Perhaps bringing Harry along was the right decision…

_As long as Minerva doesn't kill me, that is…_

Speaking of which, where was Harry?

Looking around, he realized that the boy had long since been gone from the spot that Dumbledore had left him. While he knew that the boy would be safe, he should have expected him to be bored and wander off like he always did. The question was where.

"What might you be looking for?"

Turning back to the couple, he blinked as he was treated to the picture of one Belle Delacour leaning gently against her husband's chest as Lumière lightly kissed her forehead.

_The French really are a magnificent race, albeit slightly unpredictable._

"Ah, I was just wondering where Harry ran off to."

Belle thought for a second, before inquiring, "Oh! I thought it was strange that a toddler was wandering around in the hallway. He was most polite and greeted me quite energetically. In fact, he was the one who pointed me to your rooms where he watched the entire proceedings of your _negotiations_ with me."

Silence reigned in the area when both males realized they've been checkmated by a one year old.

Belle ignored them and continued, "He was absolutely adorable, asking me playfully if he could go to the lake in the woods, and though I tried to warn him about possible dangers, the moment I stared into those eyes, I couldn't possibly say no!"

_He probably stared into your eyes on purpose, because he knows _exactly_ how 'pretty' his eyes are…_

"Isn't it such a coincidence that I just so happened to get tired of my research? The boy did wonders in helping me recover from my fatigue."

_I'm beginning to wonder just how much of this Harry had planned from the start. Coincidence and Harry do not appear in the same situation…_

Lumière chose that moment to use a stage whisper, "Forgive my wife, she loves children."

Finding it highly amusing, Albus chose to do the same, "Yes I can see that."

"The terrors a man has to brave for their spouses."

"Indeed."

"Lumière, the couch down in the dungeons seems quite cold, would you mind sleeping there for the rest of your life?" Her voice was a bit too sweet and far too serious for the Veela's liking.

"You can't be serious my dear, who shall warm _your_ bed then?"

"I believe Fleur would suffice." The tone was just a tad too cold.

Salvaging himself, he bowed deeply, "I believe it is time we got ourselves another child, maybe a boy, like that cute Harry boy you were mentioning about earlier?"

It was at that moment when a huge explosion was heard before smoke could be seen wafting slowly up into the sky from the woods. The grimace on Lumière's face indicated that this was not the first time something like this happened.

"So that more of _this_ can happen?" Belle drawled dryly.

"Well no, that wasn't quite what I intended to convey."

It was a good thing Albus was an accomplished Occlumens because the Veela influence that swept right through him a moment later was far stronger than any he had ever encountered. Judging by how the adult Delacours weren't in the least bit affected, Albus reasoned that perhaps it was this Fleur girl they were speaking of. Maybe this was one of those _weird_ behaviors they were talking about.

All of a sudden, he felt a cold shiver run down his spine and instantly linked that connection to Harry. That brought him back to his original question, _where was Harry?_

Not knowing why, but preferring to trust his instincts, Albus looked over at the Delacours and asked politely, "If possible would you please bring me over to where the explosion occurred?"

Lumière appraised the old wizard once again, very impressed that he had been able to remain calm and collected despite having experienced a wave of Fleur's extra concentrated veela charm. Normal humans would have died of nosebleeds from the delusions they were having, or from Lumière's rapier piercing their throats for even _thinking_ about his cute daughter that way.

The sense of urgency in his tone was easily picked up and figuring that it would do them more good than harm at this stage, they easily agreed and set off towards the forest at a fast pace.

* * *

Harry continued merrily on his way after leaving that beautiful lady to deal with Dumbeedore. It was punishment for leaving him there with no beard to play! Huff!

Something had been pulling him towards this place a week or two ago, and he wanted to know why. The sense of yearning and longing in the magic piqued his curiosity, so he had come to this Fuwance place like his magic told him to. Getting Dumbeedore in trouble with Minny and Poopy was fun too.

So now, here he was, in this place with lots of twees. The green looked fascinating and it calmed him as he took in the magical essence of his surroundings. The magic felt so pure and nice.

Then he began venturing further, trying to find out what exactly that particular magic was. Someone was bored and he was determined to find that person. Why else would the magic be crying out like that?

It wasn't long before he found the lake. It wasn't as big as the one in Hoggy Woggy, but it's pretty big still. It was the same one in the dweam that he had, a biiiig lake with water in it! Lots and lots of water!

And, and, there was a pwetty girl too! She was sitting up on a twee, looking bored with water down her face. Maybwe she's sad?

Oh! Oh! There she is! On the same twee! So he had come to the right place after all. Hm, what to do now? Maybe he should cheer her up? But how?

So he had done the only thing he could think of, he had jumped right into the lake with a huge splash. Then he started to flap around, creating as much noise as he could. He was quite disappointed when the girl on the twee gave him but a glance before looking away. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea.

"Why don't you save me?" He had asked, slowly letting his body get used to the density of water before finally using his magic to grip onto the surface of the water by means of adhesion, allowing him to stand on water, quite literally.

The girl spoke in a funny language that he didn't understand, but the meaning appeared in his mind without him doing anything, "Do you look like you need saving, little boy?"

Harry shrugged like the one year old he was, "No, but you could have tried being nice."

The fact that the girl seemed to understand him fine didn't bother him. After all, he could understand the girl, so it must be logical for the girl to understand him too, right?

"Why are you sitting up in the twee?"

"Because I feel like it."

"Aren't you sad?"

"No."

"But I felt your magic – "

"You felt wrong."

Pouting, Harry shook his head, "No I didn't, I'm neva wrong about magic."

"Go away."

"What? I don't wanna!"

"Why?"

"Because you're sad!"

"I'm not sad."

"Yes you are!"

"Quiet, boy."

Harry frowned, "Why you being so mean to me?"

"I don't like kids."

"But you're a kid too."

"I'm a Veela."

"What's a Veela?"

"A bird that does this."

"Huh?"

It wasn't what someone would expect a one year old boy to say in the face of a gigantic fireball, though even the girl was surprised by his next action.

She was considered to be unique, not needing to transform into the famous bird form that all full female Veelas were so proud of to access the usage of fireballs. She had used them countless times when she got annoyed at her father after all. Both her mama and grandmama fully supported her as she rewarded herself with a smoked papa, so she decided it wasn't all that bad.

Fleur Delacour was way more mature than she should have been at the age of four. Somehow, the growth and sexual hormones within her body do not follow the regular pattern and chose to let her enter puberty a lot sooner. Her brain was much better developed compared to other girls her age and most importantly, her magic was developing in ways that made her feel quite uncomfortable.

It was exactly as the boy had said. Her magic felt ever so lonely, and bored, and many times she just felt tears running down her cheeks because no one could understand how she felt. She couldn't relate to Mama since she was a non-Veela, nor could she relate to Grandmama because she was a pure-Veela. Papa was a male Veela and didn't understand how a female Veela developed.

So she had chosen to isolate herself, letting her magic do as it pleased. She had chosen the forest so that she wouldn't cause too much trouble for her family, and had been getting quite used to the tranquil environment when suddenly, this boy just showed up.

For a moment, she stayed silent, but it just couldn't be helped. Her magic was taking a violent swing, reacting fiercely to this boy in a way that felt so indefinite. Was it marking him as an enemy? Or maybe a mate?

No, it was impossible! This boy? Her mate? Ridiculous. She would show her magic the truth about this brat, and shooting the fireball was her way of telling the boy to stop bothering her. It didn't cross her mind that the boy could have been killed at all. For some reason, it was as though she was _sure_ that the boy would dodge or do something to avoid harm.

Needless to say, she was sufficiently surprised when the fireball simply halted before the boy, floating above his palm as though it were an obedient pet.

"That's so dangewous!" Harry grumbled, "How can you try to kill me just like that?"

Fleur shakily regained her composure before forcing herself to maintain the same tone of voice, "You stopped it didn't you?"

Harry nodded, before gently lifting his palm, sending the fireball into the sky, where it exploded violently, generating much smoke.

"How did you stop it?"

"Magic."

Fleur stared at him for a long moment, before slowly nodding, "Did you come here to help me?"

Harry smiled widely and nodded, before frowning, "Well I only saw a sad girl here, and wasn't sure if I could help, but now that I saw you for myself, I know I can help you for sure!"

"How?"

"Magic."

The fact that the boy was using the word 'magic' to reply to all her questions should have made her irritated, should have made her annoyed and definitely should not have intrigued her. But her eyes focused on the smiling boy, zoning in on the aura he was exuding, seeing for herself the absolute wealth of magic he had within him, and knew that he wasn't lying.

Closing her eyes, she leapt down from the tree, landing gracefully as a swan before walking over to Harry. "You are not lying?"

"Nope."

"I see. I'm Fleur."

"I'm Harry. Nice to meet you!" His grin was so wide that it threatened to split his face, and the sight of it brought a giggle to Fleur's mouth and before she realized it, she was laughing for the first time in the past few weeks.

"See, it's working already!"

"Yes, yes it is." Placing both hands on his cheeks, she leaned in, her lips closing on his forehead as she embraced him, "Thank you."

"No problem!" Harry rubbed his nose in joy, thinking he had successfully completed his mission. Now he could go back and play with Dumbeedore's beard!

Unfortunately, as he turned, he was treated to the sight of the three adults frozen to their spots. Frowning, he nudged Fleur, "Why aren't they moving?"

The girl hid her smile and whispered softly, "Maybe you've surprised them as much as you've surprised me."

"Hm…"

_Did my daughter just kiss the brat? I'll neuter him! I'll castrate him! I'll have him hanging by the groin over the – _

_Ooh, I like the looks of this. So that's why Fleur has been acting so differently. Looks like Mama knew it all along. _

_Oh Harry, what am I going to do with you? Actually, how am I going to explain myself to Minerva when I go back?

* * *

_

_**Yeah, the ending's a bit abrupt but that's the way it is. **_

_**A few things I need to mention. The Delacours acting so freely in front of Dumbledore was my attempt of portraying them as a light hearted family. Not serious and stiff or anything like that.**_

_**Fleur being that mature for a four year old, was due to her being a part – Veela, and like I have explained, the hormones were acting up and her magic was responding in ways of which she had no knowledge of. **_

_**No, Harry and Fleur will not instantly timeskip to sixteen years later where they start having hot smex in the next chapter, but there will be more of a timeskip than the one in this chapter. This chap was more for introducing Fleur, because for those of you who've read my other stories, I'm more of a fan of developing relationships over a longer period of time, instead of just dumping them together and expecting them to work. **_

_**Next chapter will be about Harry's growth from age 1 to about 5? If I'm lucky, maybe 8. So headsup on that. **_

_**Hopefully it was enjoyable. Reviews are welcome, though I'd appreciate it if you don't flame me. I don't think I've done anything to warrant those just yet. Anyways, I'll catch ya guys later. **_


	3. Early Years

_**A/N: Merry Christmas! And a Happy New Year! Alright, I'm a bit late for the former, and a bit early for the latter, but ah heck, accept them anyway. **_

_**Okay, the author's note below was written AGES ago, like months, so it's not exactly up to date, but none the less, some of it still works and does explain some stuff. Anyway, around the 4000 word mark of the fic (sorta halfway I guess), if you notice any inconsistency in flow or content or plot, well that's probably where I just started writing again. I haven't written anything in like, half a year or so, so I'm not sure if I still know how to, but I'll try anyway. Cheers.

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_**A/N: Sorry for the long wait, I've got caught up in exams again. Not a great excuse but I'll use what I have. DX**_

_**Back on topic, thanks for the reviews guys! There were some really nice encouragements, and more than a few had helpful suggestions to the fics! They were really of great help to me, so I thank you once again. Now, hopefully we can have a faster time skip this time. I've got a few ideas as to where I want to go with this, and hopefully it'll all work out. **_

_**Ok, one thing you guys have to understand I write in bursts, so I'll tell you this in advance, the first 3000 words or so are written about 3 weeks ago or sth. The rest of this fic was written recently. So if there is a bit you felt that didn't flow, well, that's probably the reason. **_

_**That aside, I feel the need to clear things out with an anonymous review. No, it wasn't a flame, it was proper criticism so I'm not exactly lashing out again (Well I try not to, but I'll probably do it. I don't take criticism too well because I'm a selfish little arse, but sue me). I just want to be able to 'reply' to him in a way, I have no idea why people give long as reviews without logging in, how the heck am I supposed to tell you what I think? (Heh heh, how many of you like it when someone outright tells you 'You suck!' or 'You should do it like this instead of your noob ways!'? Well not exactly in those words but similar meanings.) **_

_**Anyways, it's from an anonymous review called Dan. First point of his was not to strain suspension of disbelief, and he gave examples such as Snape being an adult and would have more common sense than to lock Harry in a cupboard. Next was the futility and pointlessness of having Harry bath in what I called them 'healing potions' or sth, you know, where Pomfrey dunks him into a basin of stuff, yeah that. Ghosts not being allowed to look after Harry was another thing. Apparation in Hogwarts was another thing, yes, more than a few reminded me of that. One year old understanding too much, again more than few picked up on that. And because of the above points plus the random skewing of details, my fic shall never be able to reach the likes of JBern.**_

_**I'm completely fine with that. Most of his points would hold merit to more than a few of you readers, and I can see where you're coming from. I disagree with most of them simply because of the genre of my fic. I'm making a humour fic. Not a drama fic. Hence everything will be going off to sound funny. The points above are being taken too seriously, and they were all used under the assumption that Harry was not as naïve as a normal one year old, which I think you all should be picking up about now. You know, sth like 20 year old mentally wise, physically 1 year old? Not exactly, but that's the kinda idea. **_

_**Snape and Pomfrey bit I don't agree with him. The actual mention of Snape locking with 10 locks was meant to be a joke. As most of you caught on, and really, Harry is not a 'one year old' REALLY. I mean, magic from dark lord plus dad and mom with you in your soul/brain/thingie somewhere isn't just there for you to be a normal one year old. His understanding of magic is far beyond a one year old. Now I like his way of saying the Pomfrey bit, quite amusing. **_"Its overkill for him to have been bathing in potions that make him immune to physical pain". _**His reasoning is that wizards heal fast with magic. My question is this. I have shotgun and headshot you. Wanna try healing that? Or, I have baseball bat, let's not make it overkill yet, and I whack you unconscious. The potions Pomfrey use allow him to take less damage, harder skin etc. Magic can't do everything geez. And as for why the rich purebloods don't do this, well, because Pomfrey is the only starting this kind of research. It's not known publicly, but I didn't say that, so that's my bad. Hey, you gotta give the nurse SOMETHING to do while she stays bored in the medical wing. **_

_**Ghosts, well… maybe. I still say nah. Ghosts are intangible and can't interact with physical world…? Who said that's so? That's merely an assumption. They can't touch stuff, that doesn't mean they can't do stuff. Moaning Myrtle flooding toilets anyone? The point of them staying in this real world means they can still do certain things. I probably should have elaborated, but I wanted to go the humour route again. Anyway, that's just me. **_

_**Apparation I can understand. No apparation in Hogwarts. I was trying to hint that Hogwarts LIKES Harry, and is giving him permission. But apparently it wasn't picked up, so yeah. (Hoggy Woggy anyone?)**_

_**Basically, I'm saying he's taking the stuff I'm giving too seriously. I'm writing this for fun, to show that one single character (overpowered yes) can introduce lots of wacky weird things into an otherwise boring world of magic, and I'm pushing the boundaries of magic by using said overpowered character to try and make things funny. It's not about following rules, it's about BREAKING the rules. So excuses like "follow common sense!" or "the current magical world doesn't allow that" just won't work. Any of you who have read my fics know I love overpowered characters and I adore breaking apart rules that limit things, so it's no surprise what I'm doing here. **_

_**The last statement that I can't reach JBern? Well yeah, the guy's already selling his books! I'm just a boring guy doing stupid biomedical science crap in Uni, writing occasionally for fun. I have neither the patience nor consistency to just sit down and plan a proper fic yet. All my fics are so far 'impromptu', as in they get made up on the spot. The difference is obvious! This fic is simply written for amusement and if you want to take it too seriously, just don't read it. There are times when I enjoy writing a serious scene, but not yet in this one. (Btw, no offence to people who like biology and the human body) **_

_**WHEW! I got that off my chest, mwahahah, I feel good! I feel like a ma… Yeah, ignore me. . Man, that got me motivated to type in the middle of study period. Hopefully, that cleared stuff up for other people as well. I've been wanting to do something like this, but I got lazy with the review replies. My bad on that. **_

_**ANYWAY, since I've taken up so much of your time, let's get going. Chap 3, that is. **_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

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A Wizard's Magic

Chapter 3: Early Years

"Albus, would you please tell me exactly what compelled you to apparate a _one year old_ overseas?"

"Now, now, Minerva, don't be mad – "

"Don't be mad? I'm not mad, I'm absolutely _furious_! Mad doesn't even begin to describe what I felt when I saw dear Harry get spirited away in your evil clasps as you found it fun to warp through space with a toddler!"

It would have been extremely amusing to watch the greatest wizard of their time being pummeled to death by mere words from his outraged female colleague, who mind you, was well known for a righteous temper already, however, the fact that Dumbledore wasn't _completely_ at fault made it seem a bit too harsh.

The problem was that only Dumbledore himself knew that it wasn't his fault. Alas, no one would believe him. The fact that Minerva didn't even realize that mad and furious were pretty much the same description of 'rage' showed how angry she was, or perhaps she took his way of saying 'mad' as insane? If that was the case, then he would need to correct her as soon as possi –

"Well?"

Sighing, Dumbledore shook his head, "I assure you it wasn't my intention to do –"

"Then why did you do it?"

"… Minerva, would it be alright for me to finish my sentence before you yell at me?"

"No! I'll yell at you whenever I please because this is a serious matter! Endangering the life of a one year old! Really, and I thought you were better than this!"

"Very well, as I was saying, it wasn't my intention – "

"Oh give it up, you know I don't believe that so just get on with it."

Dumbledore stayed silent for awhile, his mind trying to find ways to express himself that it was _Harry_ who blackmailed him to bring him to France. Then he realized that he might as well just tell Minerva the truth straight up, seeing how any decorating of words would be ripped apart viciously at the moment.

"It was Harry, who took the circumstances under control and compelled me to bring him with me."

Silence.

Then, eruption.

"WHAT?"

"Yes, it is with deep regret that I gave in to him in the end, but I assure you this will not happen again."

"Are you telling me that a _one_ year old was able to force _the_ Headmaster of Hogwarts to _do_ something he didn't want to?"

_Well, when she put it that way…_

"Yes…"

"I see. Albus, not admitting that you were wrong was bad enough, but making excuses for your mistakes? And what's more, the excuse sounds so ridiculous that not even a baby would believe you!"

"Now, now, Minerva – "

"Don't you 'now, now' me! How could you say that about Harry! He's but an innocent child! You talk as if he were the mastermind of some complicated scheme!"

_To be honest, he could be one… or perhaps he already was one._

"I tire from this conversation, Albus, we have more important things at hand. _Where_ is Harry?"

"…"

"Well? Surely you brought him back with you after that irresponsible trip overseas. Knowing you, I trust you kept him safe." Her tone was borderline dangerous now, and quickly, as much to reassure her as it was to himself, he muttered, "He's safe, he's safe."

Breathing a sigh of relief, McGonagall continued, "Did you leave him with Poppy or something? I didn't see him when you came back."

"Well, about that, Minerva, I'm afraid circumstances arose."

The poor lady started, slowly craning her head back in the direction of her _respected_ Headmaster, who was currently dropping off the respect scale at a speed faster than light, "And what, pray tell, did you do this time?"

Slightly affronted by her addition of the words 'this time', he grumbled, "It's not like I had a choice."

"_What_ did you do?"

The emphasis on 'what' was not lost on Dumbledore and sighing inwardly, he braced himself, "He is currently enjoying tea with the Delacours."

The clock ticking by merrily was soon interrupted by the forceful outbreak that was Minerva McGonagall's horrified shriek, "YOU LEFT HIM IN FRANCE?"

_This is going to be a long night…

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Madame Anne, head of the maids in the household of the Delacours was faced with quite an interesting sight. On one hand, she would like nothing more than to let the dear boy sleep on comfortably, knowing that his formal meeting with her master must have tired him more than he had let on. Yet, the fact that he seemed to be rolling all over the bed with his stomach making more than a few grumbling noises woke the motherly instinct within her and brought her attention back to her task at hand.

This boy was definitely one of a kind. Not only did he shrug off Monsieur Lumière's threats as though they were mere wastes of breath, but he had been able to bring more than a few smiles to young Fleur's face. It was an accomplishment that not even Lady Belle had achieved. The other maids had all been eavesdropping on the howling conversation in the main living room and those who couldn't; had gossiped about it later. None of them missed the fact that the noise volume came mostly from Monsieur Lumière and the fact that he was constantly ignored might have spurred him on a bit.

Lady Belle absolutely adored the boy from what she could see. And frankly, Anne doubted that any woman with even a tiny sliver of motherly instinct within them would find it in their hearts to be able to dislike such a charming young gentleman. Imagine their shock when young Harry here introduced himself as being only a one year old!

The maids had broken into whispers and a few had even sighed in adoration as the boy broke into a perfect bow before Fleur as she introduced herself to him, properly this time.

Of course, the playful wink that he gave Lady Belle later on showed that he wasn't completely serious about it and preferred to take things in a lighter manner. Monsieur Lumière had ranted and raved and demanded to know who and where this 'rascal's' parents were, and that had got him the reply that his parents were dead already.

The cheerful way in which he said it would have horrified her to no end, had it not been for his second sentence, "It's okay though, they live on in me!"

Even Monsieur Lumière had gaped at his reply and was effectively shut up, while Lady Belle ensured that he stayed that way for a few more moments as she glared at him with that 'no-nonsense' stare of hers, and pulled young Harry into a deep embrace. The sighs that could be heard from the maids were proofs that they wanted to do the exact same thing right then.

It surprised her that Fleur was so calm, considering how she seemed to be so close to Harry, yet after realizing that the girl had her eyes locked onto the boy all the time, the concern was obvious.

Harry then chose that moment to cheerfully reply, "Oh! And I'm a Potter!"

For a while, no one thought anything of it, focusing more on the fact that a one year old could speak so fluently. Then the bomb dropped when even Lady Belle stiffened and stared at him in disbelief. She could almost hear the floor crack as Monsieur Lumière's jaw crashed onto it after that exclamation.

"Did you just say your name is Harry _Potter_?"

"Yep! That's my name!"

Feeling quite faint, the man had dropped back onto his favorite arm chair and eyed the wine on the table longingly. There really wasn't much else left to say. He couldn't harm this boy more than he could harm the Dark Lord. There went all his plans of torture for daring to taint his daughter with his touch.

Obviously, he was ignored as he continued his mutterings, whereas Lady Belle took control of the situation and turned to Fleur, "Did you know this?"

"Non." But the look in her eyes hinted that she wasn't as surprised as her parents.

Young Harry simply smiled, "I'm just Harry."

For some reason, her heart slowed back down to a regular beat at that, as though the raging thumping it was undergoing before was non-existent. The boy knew it himself that he was just Harry, just another little boy waiting to grow up, and could tell from their expressions that they were somewhat in awe and fear of his presence. After all, it's not every day you learned that the guest of your house defeated a Dark Lord a few months ago.

Lady Belle has taken a deep breath, then another one for reassurance, before giving a deep and firm nod, "You're absolutely right. You're just Harry." And with a smile, she had embraced him once again.

Anne could feel her heart go out to the boy as a dazzling smile lit up on his face. The happiness could be felt as it radiated off the boy, who was clearly happy to receive Lady Belle's affection.

Fleur had been the one to separate them and with a quick reminder that Harry probably needed rest, Belle had instructed Anne to take good care of the boy while she had a _proper_ chat with Lumière in the time being. Fleur had simply waved goodbye to Harry with a small smile before going back to the room, whereas Harry had fallen asleep right after the wave and shrunk to the ground in a heap.

Luckily, Anne scooped him up in time and gently carried him off before he was surrounded by all the other maids who wanted a piece of this cute wonder and put him to bed. The reception she received as she entered the kitchen was loud beyond imagination, questions bombarded at her from all directions and it was finally with a trained sternness that put everyone in their place. She wasn't the head maid of this household for twenty years for nothing.

Realizing the boy was probably hungry from all the things that had happened, she quickly instructed the cooks to whip something up, before once again telling the maids that none were to disturb the poor boy. He would be in her care, orders from Lady Belle herself, and anyone trying to peek on the boy would be dealt with severely. It was a good thing everyone respected both Lady Belle and her that she was able to leave so soon with the tray of food.

That brought her back to the situation at hand, should she wake the boy up or let him sleep?

After ten more minutes of going either way in the dilemma, she finally decided on waking the boy up. Walking towards the bed, she quietly laid the tray of food on a table nearby, before reaching out to Harry. Wide eyes blinked as she lightly ruffled his hair after shaking him awake, before small hands reached out for her.

Smiling, she took him in her arms and carried him over to the table where he ate without the fuss one would expect from a one year old. As he finished, once again, she wiped his mouth clean very carefully, before carrying him back to the bed.

The poor boy looked exhausted and his eyes ever so sleepy. It tore at her heart that she had woken him and perhaps it was the wrong decision, but that thought was thrown out of the window even as Harry smiled widely and whispered, "Thank you. I liked that."

Nodding in satisfaction, the boy then surprised her yet again by giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek, before falling back onto the pillow, "Good night."

Her body running on auto pilot as she tucked him in, her mind still reeling over how absolutely adorable this boy was, Anne came to a conclusion.

_We must keep him!

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Meanwhile, Belle was having quite the discussion regarding the situation at hand. It wasn't with Lumière. It was surprisingly, with one Minerva McGonagall. The moment Harry went off to bed, Lumière had erased himself of any traces of humour and took on a serious attitude. He had no idea that the _boy-who-lived_ was the one that Dumbledore brought with him, and needless to say, he felt quite offended that the old man would have kept this bit of information from him.

Belle had taken one look at her husband and let him do his thing. After all, she didn't marry this man for his veela powers. She was pleasantly rewarded with the sight of him flinging a handful of floo powder right into their fireplace after casting several spells. The green flames rose wildly and before long, the face of a tired Albus Dumbledore greeted them.

Lumière had frowned at his look, before shaking his head, "What game are you playing with me?"

Dumbledore blinked once, before realization dawned on him, "You must mean Harry."

"Harry _Potter_." The emphasis on the surname was not missed and Dumbledore sighed, "It wasn't my idea, I've been explaining over and over for the past hour that it _wasn't_ my idea!" The desperate look on his face intrigued Lumière and after hearing the old man's side of things, he invited both Dumbledore and McGonagall over to his study.

International Floo was not only expensive to set up, but it took quite a bit of magic to maintain the gateways. Needless to say, McGonagall was impressed by it and from the looks she was giving their home, her animosity towards them seemed to decrease somewhat. After all, the appearance of one's habitat defined his or her tastes and life style, and with such luxury, it was unlikely that Harry would be ill-treated.

It was then decided that the males would do their own talking in their corner while the females have a quick chat. Belle had never been too fond of stiff people, and she had pointed that out right at the start of the conversation, requesting that Minerva relax, and the older woman had complied, if only slightly and the chat had kicked off. It started with small talk, introductions as to who they were, basic questions regarding Harry, and then it evolved into the passion of discussing Harry and their love for him and by the end of it, the two woman had a whole new respect for each other.

Lumière and Albus had cleared things up as well, with the French highly amused. The fact that he actually believed the barmy old man when he said that it was _Harry's_ idea to come to France with him, not the other way around, made him chortle. His way of logic was quite simple compared to Minerva. Dumbledore had no reason to lie to him in such desperate manners, since the man had way more exquisite and elegant ways of letting him believe instead of doing everything short of kneeling and begging.

He knew what it was like to be pestered non-stop by a woman when said woman demanded truth from him even though he had already given the truth because she didn't believe him.

To express that emotion alone, one would have to look at the sentence above, shake his head, process the information, shake his head and finally look at it one more time before sighing in despair.

"So, is it alright if we keep Harry?" Belle had piped towards the end of their conversation.

Lumière had been tempted to roar out 'no' instantly, but deciding the sight of his wife tracing her nails was more than a tad too scary, he gave in and decided to concur.

Dumbledore looked at Minerva, who simply sighed and nodded, before answering, "I believe it would do Harry much good as well. It would be a nice change to experience a different culture at a young age."

"… Yes, indeed it will…" Lumière had to painfully hold himself back from blurting out that Harry had only been experiencing the so-called English culture for mere weeks and that there was no point in shoving him into a new culture at the age of one because he probably wouldn't even remember the English culture seeing how humans do _not_ have memory before age one, but that point was moot because his wife had daintily placed her nimble hands on his back, signifying that any resistance would lead to extreme pain.

The fact that his thought process was taking form in longer and longer sentences as time passed annoyed him almost as much as the fact that he was inwardly hyperventilating because of these thoughts.

In the end, they had cheerfully bid the two English professors goodnight and sent them back their way through the Floo, well, Belle had cheerfully waved, while Lumière stood their glumly.

"Oh grow up, Lumière. Harry's adorable, you'll like him soon enough."

"I do like the boy, Belle, but Fleur – "

"Will not stay four years old forever."

"She's four now!"

"Harry's one."

"Exactly!"

"So nothing will happen."

Sighing, the head of the Delacour family sunk back into his chair, "Yes, yes, I know, but I just worry. How did Harry find out about Fleur? According to Dumbledore, the kid is magical in ways that we can't even begin to imagine!"

"I know, Lumière, but can't you see that Fleur's finally returning back to normal?"

"That's what I'm afraid of. What if he's doing something to her?"

"Now you're being paranoid. A non-veela charming a veela? Seriously?"

Lumière thought for a moment, before sighing, "Alright, I give. I'm being paranoid, but sue me, I'm a father."

Belle sat on the arm rest lightly and hugged him, "And I'm a mother. Trust me on this, I'm sure Mama would approve as well."

"Oh you women."

"And what of me?"

Lumière chuckled, "This has happened before, hasn't it, me going all bollocks worrying."

Belle smiled fondly, "Yes, when I gave birth to Fleur."

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize silly, that's why I love you. You care, really care about us."

"Heh, when you have the most talented woman in the world, you _know_ you have to care." Gathering her in his arms, he smirked, "Alright, I've made enough of a mess tonight, and I feel the need to redeem myself." Leaning forward, he gently nuzzled his wife's cheek, placing butterfly kisses down to her neck as he whispered, "Where's Maman?"

Enjoying her husband's attention thoroughly, she breathed, "Probably sleeping after all that research."

"Then I guess we need to retire to our bedroom as well. Shall we, ma chérie?"

"Être en tête, mon cher."_ (Lead the way, my dear)

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Years went by and soon little Harry Potter reached the age of five. The entire family seemed to revolve around the prince and the princess at this point. It was like a fairy tale, typical boy meets girl, and then they live with each other, and eventually the prince will carry the princess far off into the distance and they will live happily ever after. Well, though the circumstances following the meeting was slightly different, there was no doubt that the entire Delacour family, from Madame and Monsieur Delacour down to the Anne and the other maids, were living in happiness every single day.

It was a simple equation. Fleur happy equals Lumière happy. Harry happy equals Belle and Anne happy. And when all of the above are happy, then pretty much, everyone else is happy. Of course, that was what Harry thought at that time, so excuse him if it seemed too simple.

Over the years, Lumière slowly grew to love the kid as his own. Despite the fact that it took him much longer than it took his wife to treat Harry like family, he soon came to discover the qualities that seemed to infatuate both Fleur and Belle, and pretty much everyone else within the household. For the first year, he still held some doubts about Harry, seeing how he _was_ the boy who defeated the Dark Lord, but as time moved on, the more he interacted with him, the more he came to see the boy in a new light. It sounded corny but it was true.

Harry grew from a very active, constantly curious child, to a more calm and collected one. He would prefer to analyze things beforehand instead of rushing into the action like before. This was probably due to his constant interactions with Fleur. The girl really left an imprint on the boy, magic wise and personality wise. They never really left each other. They took lessons together, they practiced magical spells together, they did all sorts of stuff together. The most queer and peculiar lesson would be languages, where Harry and Fleur would sit silently side by side, with Fleur's head resting on Harry's lap, and a book of either French or English resting in front of them. They would sit there for a few hours and by the end of the lesson, Fleur's English skills would somehow have grown by a large margin.

Dumbledore and Lumière later on realized that the two children were able to communicate through their minds, a feat that should not be possible to anyone who hadn't undergone one form of ritual or another. This led to Lumière raging about how Harry had tainted his precious daughter again, which resulted in Belle rebutting every single argument he put forth leaving him a sputtering mess at the end of their 'civilized discussion'.

They had tried asking the children how this was possible, and surprisingly it was Fleur who replied, "Secret." She seemed perfectly fine with how she was being so intimate with Harry, and the boy too showed no signs of surprise. He, like Fleur, simply accepted the situation and made use of it. As children, they probably didn't realize the significance of their actions, but Lumière sure did and his reaction as to rage. Belle forced him to 'quit' in three seconds. Since then, Harry had dubbed the male Delacour's failure in an argument as a 'rage quit'. Years later, he would find out that it wasn't exactly right, but he would stick with it anyway.

Surprisingly, Lumière actually agreed to have Fleur be taught in the same way the Hogwarts Professors taught Harry. It was originally agreed that he would employ certain renowned French professors to introduce Fleur to the basics of magic. That plan failed quite miserably when Fleur turned them down, saying that they couldn't teach her anything more than what Harry was teaching her at the moment. Back then, the male Delacour thought that Fleur was mocking him, seeing how he could not for the life of him recall when Harry ever _taught_ Fleur anything. He had questioned Belle and obtained the same answer. Anne and the other maids too replied in the negative.

Not one to give up so easily, even if it meant displeasing his precious daughter, Lumière called in a favor from the then Headmaster of the famed school of magic Beauxbatons. The man then sent two professors over as requested to educate his daughter. Or so they were told. After one lesson with Fleur, the two professors were shaking in so much fear and misery that they had to be obliviated. Lumière had to pick up his jaw after asking just what exactly she had done to make them react like this.

The beautiful young girl replied softly, "Papan, I did everything they requested. I suppose it is in their nature, brutes like them are not made to withstand my elegance."

Flinching backwards at the harsh comment, he was about to retort when young Harry had appeared beside her frowning. The boy shook his head once, before flicking Fleur on the forehead, as though chiding her for being so impolite. To his absolute horror, his daughter actually seemed down for a second or two, before recovering and bowing before apologizing.

Apparently, the two professors had tested her with theory and practical skills suited for her age, and had steadily increased the difficulty of the questions from there. Fleur had answered every single question with textbook answers. That, plus the fact that the two professors were somewhat affected by her Veela charm made them all the more nervous, especially since she seemed to be extremely annoyed at having to answer the questions in the first place. It was as though she were toying with them.

Dumbledore, having heard the news, travelled over and offered to let a few Hogwarts professors have a go at teaching them. After much debate, Lumière agreed and hence, Professor Babbling and Flitwick arrived the next afternoon, primed and ready to go. The Ancient Runes professor was greeted with a warm hug from Harry, followed by a quick kiss on the cheek, whereas the old Charms professor found himself floated towards Harry as he hugged him as well. Such easy manipulation of magic shocked those at the scene, for ever since that day Harry had lived with them, they had not witnessed anything out of the norm regarding the young British boy.

Fleur however, merely waited at his side, with grace and elegance one would not expect even from a teenage Veela, looking far more mature than she should. At that moment, Belle couldn't help but gasp, it was as though Fleur knew where her place was – by Harry's side. Completely unlike her attitude against the French professors, Fleur gave a perfect curtsey, before introducing herself in fluent English, complete with a gentle smile on her face.

To say they were shocked would be an understatement, mere days ago, Fleur had no idea the English language existed, so how? All they did was stare at books all day long! Surely no one could understand literature just like that? Even if they were _both_ geniuses, it still felt unreal. Furthermore, the typical British greeting was executed to perfection, showing just the right amount of respect and warmth in her greeting. Flitwick was very impressed with her, as was Babbling, however, as they interacted with her more through tests and conversation, that impression would go on to become admiration.

Babbling thought she had found the one and only gem within Harry when she had taught him how to solve those puzzles, and yet with Fleur, she could do all the things that she did with Harry, yet Fleur would always stop at a certain level. It wasn't that she couldn't do anything beyond that, but more along the lines of pacing herself. She would challenge herself for puzzles that she had trouble solving, and perhaps give it one hundred and ten percent before either stopping or successfully finishing it.

Like Harry, she knew her limits really well, and was able to use everything within those limits, in a variety of ways to solve the puzzles. Babbling had the utmost pleasure in testing her and could only smile widely when Fleur gave her a bow after finishing the tests. The grin on Harry's face as Fleur finished led her to believe that the boy had as much influence on her as she did on him. The test with Harry was much harder than any other she had ever given him, and he had passed with flying colours. You could just tell from the way they processed things. A puzzle could be solved in many different ways. Some would stick to one fixed way, whereas others would use the theory and create ways for themselves. Fleur was the latter, and Harry would seem to belong with her now.

Harry used to bombard his way (successfully) through any puzzle she gave him. Not quite the most eloquent way of doing things, but nevertheless it got the job done (he was only one year old after all). Gone was the brute force, and in its place stood finesse so fine that she was quite surprised to be honest. The progress he had made was extremely impressive.

For Flitwick, there wasn't really a test for Harry seeing how the boy had summoned him over like usual, and for Fleur, he brought out toys. Yes, toys of all sorts – dolls, doll houses, cars, toy soldiers, a mixed variety of toys aimed at both sexes. And then, he asked her to play with them, at a distance. She was told that she wasn't really expected to do anything, so if she felt that she couldn't reach them, then she was to inform him.

Fleur frowned, before shaking her head. She gave a longing look towards Harry, who simply shrugged. Then, with great resolution, she began to maneuver the toys. This was charms way beyond even the fourth year at Hogwarts. Minute manipulation of action figures to cartwheel, flip, backflip and all sorts of other acrobatics was extremely difficult, and yet here she was, playing them with… boredom, it would seem.

Harry would later inform Flitwick that Fleur has no interest in toys. The short professor would be intrigued and ask why. Veela children liked toys like any other children, so Flitwick thought it was probably due to growing up in this family. The boy-who-lived simply smiled and grinned, "I'm here."

And as though giving him a demonstration, he gestured to his hair, and in a blink of an eye, changed length _and_ colour five times. Again, respective jaws smashed through the floor. It _seemed_ like metamorphism, it _looked_ like metamorphism, it _felt _like metamorphism but…

Dumbledore had rejected that line of thought and said that Harry wasn't changing his entire outlook as a whole. A metamorphist imagines what he or she looks like before changing the entire body to look like it. Harry is merely changing a certain part of his body with the enhancement of magic, causing alteration of hormones and other messengers of the body to interact with the related cells. This allowed him to change his hair at will without forethought. It was like inputting a 'random' in the calculator and getting a random number just like that, not that any of them knew what a calculator was.

Fleur had then walked over and began playing with his hair, treating him like her own Barbie doll. Funnily enough, it was Belle who spoke up first, "Hm, that saves a lot of trouble." Lumière had snorted and said, "More like saves a lot of money."

That got him death glared and he had to take a phoenix down to recover from the status effect. Wait, what?

Dumbledore once again stared at Harry, who held a smirk so wide that it looked pretty scary on him.

_He's just one year old, just a one year… oh who am I kidding?_

With that, it was proven that Fleur was well beyond the level that Lumière thought, and was agreed that the professors of Hogwarts would have a part in her teaching, as they do now with Harry. When the professors were busy, they would peruse the books in the vast library present in the Delcour Mansion.

And the days began to fly by, to this day, where he was five.

By now, Dumbledore was well used to the random flashbacks that appeared in his head every time Harry smiled at him, and hence, didn't think much of it. Normally, people would be disoriented and perhaps crazed after so much exposure, but since the Headmaster was already barmy in the first place, it didn't do as much damage as it should. Maybe that was why Harry only did it to his favorite beard provider. (At the age of five, he still braids his beard.)

He was expected to be at the Delacours for another five days, and hence, it was understandable that Harry felt it necessary to prank him, on behalf of the entire family, seeing how the French as snobbish and arrogant as LumièreDelacour do not like being surprised like that. Least, that was what Harry thought.

They were like father and son, yes, but the momentary glares and snarls that he emitted whenever Harry was with Fleur had him more than a bit annoyed. Him being annoyed would result in him confiding in his wonderful, darling, glorious, beautiful, charming, fascinating mother, Belle Delacour, who would then death glare Lumière.

"Harry, I would appreciate it if you don't monologue within my mind, it is quite disconcerting."

"Oh, oops."

Over the last few years, Harry had constant contact with his birth parents, sort of. It was spiritual, he could feel their warmth, the hugs and kisses and the words of joy and care, and it would last, but he never 'saw' or 'felt' them. They were just _there_. But he didn't mind, because the emotions they broadcasted was enough to make him feel safe, and besides, he had Belle and Lumière to act at his parenting figures, so it wasn't that big a deal. Fleur was always by his side, so he never felt sad anyway.

The past few years saw their relationship grow. It was quite fascinating, they were like magnets, opposites attracting each other, drawing them towards one another at night, their hearts as one, their body drawn close. They ravished each other, their lips overwhelming the other, their breaths ragged, their –

"HARRY!"

"Alright, alright, it's just a joke, geez."

"I do not need images of stuff like that when you're but a five year old!"

"So you need them when I'm legal?"

"…"

No, no, their relationship was pure, none of those R-rated stuff yet. He suspected he got his pranking tendencies from his dad, but who knows, maybe Dumbeedore was just that fun to tease. Wait, Dumbledore, no more Dumbee. He was five and he's a man now! Or so James Potter had said. To which he also got death glared by Lily, spiritually of course.

Back on topic, his relationship with Fleur had grown –

"Harry, I'm warning you."

"Relax, it's normal this time."

– and they felt extremely comfortable together. Fleur had come to accept him as an immoveable part of her life. Every time they were together, their magic was in harmony, at peace and tranquil. Ever since the day they met, Fleur had never again experienced another ounce of anxiety or irritation like she did before, and when Grandmaman made a note of that, she had smiled cheerfully and nodded in the affirmative. Her grandmaman was surprised but glad, and kept it a secret from Lumière. It wouldn't do for her son to go on a rampage yet.

"I must insist that you _stop_. Harry, I'm here because I need your help."

Dumbledore and Minerva sitting on a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-

"HARRY!"

"Okay, okay, that was a bit too much, even for me."

Shaking his head in exasperation, Dumbledore sighed, "The arithmancy professor has recently retired, and we are examining applicants. Would you mind coming with me and helping me pick one?"

Blinking, Harry stared owlishly at the headmaster, "And why would I help you pick one? I haven't done Arithmancy."

Silence reigned, and Dumbledore had to take off his glasses, wipe them, put them back on, and stare back at the little devil sitting across him, "Yes, you have."

"Have not."

"Please Harry, let's not do this."

"I have not."

"You have."

"Have not."

"I assure you, you have."

"I have not."

"Harry…"

"Have not."

"Yes you have!"

"Oh… I have?"

"Yes!"

"So I haven't done Arithmancy?"

"Yes! I mean, NO!"

"You are contradicting yourself professor~"

"I am not!"

"Oh yes you are~"

"I most definitely am not!"

"So I have done Arithmancy?"

"No you have not!"

"Well there we go then. How can I help you?"

"You… You…"

Point to Harry.

"Fleur, go save the Professor from his misery. It wouldn't do for him to go crazy here in France, I don't think he would take well to our asylum."

"Oui Maman."

"Venez mon cher, arrêtez de le taquiner." _Come my dear, stop teasing him._

"Oh, mais il est ainsi amusant." _Oh, but it's so amusing._

"Oui, je sais, mais…" _Yes I know, but…_

"D'accord, je m'arrêterai." _Alright, I'll stop._

"Merci beaucoup." _Thank you very much._

"Je vous en prie." _You're welcome. _

The conversation ended with a kiss on Harry's cheek, which was returned, before the boy turned back to the famed British wizard who had imaginary smoke coming out of his ears.

"I do not have smoke coming out of my ears."

"Harry!"

"Je plaisante juste, désolé ma chérie." _I'm just joking, sorry dear._

Gathering her into his arms, he grinned at Dumbledore, "So, when are we leaving?"

Staring at his Cheshire grin warily, the headmaster mumbled, "As soon as possible."

"Well, we'll see you there then. Au revoir~"

And just like that, both children disappeared.

"They are certainly a handful, aren't they?"

"My dear madam, how on earth do you handle that little rascal?" Sinking back into his chair, the old man felt his age for the umpteenth time that day.

Belle Delacour chuckled before answering, "Harry seems to love me in a different way, using cuddles and hugs, instead of pranks and jokes. Lumière often suffers the same fate as you."

Sighing one last time, he bid the lady farewell and apparated back to Hogwarts.

* * *

Septima Vector sat patiently in the waiting room. It had been ten years since she had left Hogwarts as a graduate. She had loved numbers as a kid, finding them absolutely fascinating. She would sit by herself for hours and hours trying to figure out equations, mathematical theory and all things related to numbers that she rarely ever went out of her way to make friends. As such, she grew up as a loner, if you will, not that she really minded because thinking required silence, and with little friends came lots of nice, peaceful silence.

Of course, she had a few that she could confide in and chat with when she wasn't working out equations but really, no one really focused on her back in Hogwarts. Her porcelain face, pale complexion, long shapely legs and admirable bust only served to get boys to leer at her wherever she went, and that did not help her as she found their advances foolish and annoying. They would always want a date with her, try to get in her pants and if that fails, would try to at least get her to go down on them. As if she would be so stupid as to fall for their 'manly' charms. Multiple rejections soon had her in the 'cool' category of girls, and from then on, her peace and quiet continued.

Arithmancy was a subject combining numbers and magic. She found it extremely intriguing by the fact that those two could be related. Normally, when one talked about magic, it was all flash and bang, extravagant fireworks, serious firepower and stuff like that. Numbers, what? So how could the two be the primary constituents of a subject? To answer those questions, she took Arithmancy and fell in love with it.

It happened to everyone, where they eventually found something they loved doing, only for her, it wasn't stuff like Quidditch or Chess, it was Arithmancy. So here she was, waiting to meet the Headmaster and try to convince him that she deserved the position. It was a pretty intense competition, about five applicants had gone in already and yet they had all come out depressed. Why that was they wouldn't say, so Vector had to continuously guess what monstrous being resided behind those doors, tearing down those confident auras that those applicants held (and they definitely could hold them, seeing how Vector recognized at least two international award holders for breakthroughs in Arithmancy).

She was about to hyperventilate when a cool voice called out, "Next."

Startled, she quickly shook herself out of her reverie, took in a deep breath, and whispered, "Okay, just relax…"

Readying herself mentally, she closed her eyes and walked through the doors, trying to ignore the gazes of pity and sympathy from the other applicants. She expected a lot of things, maybe a whole jury of people waiting to cross examine her, maybe Professor Dumbledore putting on an extremely evil presence, or maybe even getting Professor McGonagall to help him scare people away.

Vector was partly right, there was a jury, but merely the current residing Professors, after all, the new professor had to be one they all approved of. Dumbledore set in the middle, putting on a very amiable aura, unlike the one she had guessed. Everyone was all smiles, smiles like predators but still smiles.

The peculiar bit was a pair of children sitting in front of the table. The girl had silky blonde hair accompanied with smooth vibrant skin, her posture hinted at her grace and elegance, those half-lidded eyes of blue seemed ever so alluring. It was quite unnerving to see a girl so young hold such terrifying beauty. The boy was even scarier, his hair was short, black and messy, his face younger than that of the girl, but those eyes, those green eyes, they seem to stare right through her soul. Shivers ran down her spine the moment she made contact with them. It wasn't scary per se, but it still held a mysterious feeling, not exactly welcome in a situation as a job interview.

Quickly getting over this, she bowed to the professors, and to the two children, before taking her seat. Professor Dumbledore nodded jovially, and asked, "Septima Vector?"

"Yes."

"Very well."

And she waited.

And waited.

And waited.

This was surprising, weren't they going to ask her any questions?

All throughout the wait, the boy had stared at her without blinking. And she had stared back, not knowing what else to do. For some strange reason, she was fascinated by this boy. Everything about him felt so right, and though the eyes still felt creepy, she passed that off as the curiosity of a child. The girl didn't pay her much attention, choosing to continue drawing circles on the boy's chest as she lay against him. Normally, their intimacy would have surprised her, but again, she passed this off as some sort of test and ignored it.

To be perfectly honest, Vector had never really had much interaction with children. Sure, she had been one once, but that was the extent of it, she had been pursuing her career and really, felt no need to get involved in relationship matters. She was still young and definitely had the assets (physical or monetary wise) to secure her future. The problem resided in the opposite sex, not one male fit to be her husband had appeared, and since she wasn't really trying that hard to find one in the first place, it wasn't a surprise that she hadn't found anyone that she liked. She had never fantasized about having children, seeing how her mother always reminded her what a menace she was when she was young, but this boy made her feel the need to hug him, to care for him and nurture him.

He had a face that was supposed to be naïve and immature but it wasn't. He gave off a maturity that seemed unreal, perhaps even more so than her and the feel of magic that he was exuding emitted warmth and happiness. The fact that she could even feel the magic of his was impressive for she had not known a child to be able to give off an aura. This boy couldn't be more than five years of age, and yet his ease at handling a situation like this was incomprehensible.

The staring contest continued for a while longer, before the boy gave a wide smile, clambered over the table and placed a kiss on her cheek, "She passes!"

What? She passed? Just like that? Something wasn't adding up.

As Vector was still acting like a deer in the spotlight, Dumbledore gave a nod and smiled, "Well then, Professor Vector, we'll see you next Monday. Feel free to move into the castle anytime, the elves would be more than happy to assist you."

Nodding dumbly, she was ushered politely out of the room and before long, she was in Hogsmeade, back in the inn where she was slowly getting the shock out of her system and realizing she was hired.

Touching her cheek where the boy kissed, she shivered. There was only one thing she could easily conclude after that session.

That boy was freaky.

In a good way.

* * *

"So Harry, what made you decide on her?"

"Yeah, did you see through her soul or something?"

"Maybe you saw her magic?"

"Her aura perhaps?"

Being bombarded with questions by all the professors (except Snape), he merely grinned, "No."

Surprised at his answer, Dumbledore couldn't help but dig his own grave and ask, "Then why did you choose her?"

"She looked pretty and nice."

"…"

"…"

"…"

"What, that's it?"

"Yeah!"

"… Serious?"

"Yep! She was really, really pretty."

"So, you chose her because she was pretty, nothing else."

"Nope!"

"Oh dear."

The Headmaster of Hogwarts had just chosen a professor of Arithmancy because she was pretty.

That didn't sound too nice.

"Come now, Harry, there _must_ be something else."

"Well, she kept staring at me."

"… But all the applicants stared at you."

"They started crying towards the end."

"That's true, but even so – "

"She didn't blink."

"Oh?"

"She can concentrate~"

"I… see."

So Septima Vector was picked because she was pretty and because she could concentrate. Arithmancy equaled (=) numbers with magic equaled (=) needed concentration to teach.

There, that sounded much better. Now Hogwarts' headmaster wouldn't be seen as a shallow, old pervert who picked professors based on their admirable appearances.

Fleur on the other hand, had a small smile as she moved towards Harry, "She was pretty?"

The boy nodded before taking her into his arms, wanting to go back to the Delacours for afternoon tea, "Yeah."

"Prettier than me?" Her eyes locked onto his.

"Hm… no. Close, but no."

"No lies?"

Harry didn't reply, but instead bid farewell to the respective professors, before reaching into his magic. Turning back to a curious Fleur, he chuckled, before whispering into her ear just as they disappeared, "Quand vous devenez la déesse vous êtes destinés pour être, vous comprendrez que je n'ai jamais besoin de vous mentir de votre beauté."

_When you become the goddess you are destined to be, you will understand that I need never lie to you about your beauty.

* * *

_

_**A/N: Oh gawd, it felt so horrible, especially towards the end. I had to force myself to make something out. It was supposed to be a lot funnier, but oh well. **_

_**Now, most of you should see that I'm making both Harry and Fleur a lot more matured than they should be, doing things that no children their age should do, but know now, that those are intentional. So don't worry about them too much. **_

_**They don't love each other yet because they don't know what love is. They share affection for one another. Though I didn't mention it, it's hinted that they know of the bond they share, so it's not that much of a surprise for them to be so intimate after four years of being together.**_

_**Also, if the French is written incorrectly grammar or vocab wise, I admit right now that I used a web translator. We all know how inaccurate those can get. So if they're wrong, bear with me and read the English, I did put them there for a reason. Cheers.  
**_

_**Next chap will have time skips again, and hopefully the whole thing will move on a lot faster, if I update that is.**_

_**Finally, I apologize for not updating in ages, but I had my reasons. Hopefully this makes up for it. Do review and tell me your thoughts. I'll see ya guys around. **_


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